Breakfast & Books
by gingerwhovianrobotskeleton
Summary: (AU based "loosely" on Breakfast at Tiffany's) Isabella French is an up-and-coming writer who moves into a big city and begins an odd friendship with her apartment neighbor, Nicholas Gold, a unemployed playboy who makes money doing very odd jobs. Rumbelle. Rated Mature.
1. Just Another Day

_**A/N**__: **As it says in the summary, this is loosely based on my favorite Audrey Hepburn film. Both Belle and Rumpel aren't any one specific character. Rumpel is mostly like Holly, but he has Paul characteristics and vice-versa for Belle. This first chapter might confuse some, but all will be explained as the story progresses. Hope you all enjoy!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I'm only gonna say this once: I do not own **_**"Once Upon a Time" _or "_Breakfast at Tiffany's"_. They belong to other people who make more money than I do._**

**Chapter 1: Just Another Morning**

It was 9:30 am in the big city. Most of the shops were starting to open up. The Blue Fairy Bookshop was open to its usual morning crowd which consisted of Ruby Lucas, the waitress in the coffee shop that connected to the bookstore, Marco Booth, the owner of the book shop, and Isabelle French. The shop was a reasonable size, not usually accommodating to large crowds. It use to be just a simple bookshop on the outskirts of town until the city opened up a Barnes & Noble. It was all Marco could do to spend a little extra to build a conjoined coffee shop just to keep business going.

Isabella, or Belle for short, was here for the third morning in a row. She had just moved to the big city. Her agent, Mary Margaret Blanchard, had recommended that she move so they could have more book meetings without spending too much cash to fly out to see each other.

She found a great apartment about four blocks from The Blue Fairy Bookshop, which is where she met Ruby, the landlord's grand-daughter, who recommended this place. Belle liked it well enough. She looked around at the deep brown walls with various portraits of coffee mugs and landscapes of far away countries. There were dark green couches and chairs scattered across the place where everyone could read while enjoying their coffee. Belle loved to visit Barnes & Noble as much as the next bibliophile, but she loved the homey, casual feel of this place better.

She sat at the same little table by the window as she had for the past two mornings. She had her laptop in front of her, a hot cup of coffee to her right, and a blueberry muffin to her left. She gazed out the window watching townsfolk walk by. She loved people watching. It helped her to come up with characters ideas.

Sadly though, her inspiration was running up short.

"Is this the sequel to your previous work you're looking so serious over?" Ruby quipped, topping off her mug with fresh coffee.

Belle laughed. "Actually, my previous work was just a one-novel story. Have you read it?"

Ruby smiled apologetically. "Guilty. Hope you're not offended."

"Not at all," she assured. She didn't care whether or not billions of people were reading her work as if it was a new _Harry Potter_ book. She just loved writing. "The less people that recognize me, the better."

Ruby nodded, taking the empty seat in front of her. "So, any big plans for the day?"

"Well," Belle closed her laptop, glad to have a reason not to mull over her writer's block. "I still have to finish unpacking."

"How much of that do you have left?"

"Almost done. Just need to unpack the kitchen boxes and decorate the living room," she replied, to which she was relieved. She had spent the last three evenings scarfing down Chinese take-outs on paper plates. She couldn't wait to start cooking!

"Oh, I could totally help with that," Ruby's red lips stretched out into a grin. "I'm pretty good with interior design."

Belle nodded. "Sure, that sounds great."

The bell on the bookshop entrance rang as two men in business suits walked in. Ruby bid her farewell as she got up to take care of the new customers. Belle took a couple of sugar packets and poured them into her coffee. As she stirred, her gaze went back to the window. The city stretched out before her. She was glad to have left her small town. She had wanted to move when her first book got published, but responsibilities back home with her widowed father held her back. She had to help support him. He had passed away two months back, and all Belle was left with was box of old family photos and a failing flower shop. She had sold the flower shop to pay for movers to bring her stuff halfway across the country while her agent paid for her plane tickets.

Now that she had moved, she felt free. She had read that traveling was the best thing for a writer to do.

She just hoped she could find out what to write about next.

...

It was another late night for one Nicholas Gold. So late, in fact, he didn't get back to his apartment until morning. His evening was spent mostly at a party some acquaintances were hosting. He didn't know them personally. It was more of a Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon kind of situation. He hadn't wanted to go, but at the insistence of his agent, he had no choice.

Regina Mills loved dragging Gold around, dressing him up in tailored suits and showing him off to talent scouts. She only showed true affection when she was trying to impress higher-ups. Other days, he would down as much alcohol as possible and flirt and charm his way through a selection of beautiful, classy women; his agent wouldn't even bat an eyelash then.

They weren't married or anything. It was more of an agreement the two of them had shared. She'd find him work, and he'd fuck her whenever she had an itch that needed scratching.

Last night was no different.

Usually he'd leave her place afterwards, but he accidently fell asleep. He woke up around 7:30 in the morning. Luckily she was still asleep. He was able to slip out as quietly as he could without waking her up.

He walked up to the front of his apartment. He reached into his pocket and cursed himself. He had left his keys at Regina's.

He let his head bang against the door. It wasn't like he was locked out for good. He could buzz any of the other tenants and they'd let him in. The problem was most of them were either asleep or at work. The landlord, Granny Lucas, he knew would be home. He also knew she would be pissed if he buzzed her this early. Again.

He looked at the name plates and saw a name he didn't recognize: _FRENCH_. He figured it was the new person that was moving in. He didn't keep up with who everyone was and what not, but no one could miss big, burly men carrying boxes up two flights of stairs. Granny's apartments were so old-fashioned the place didn't have any elevators, which was murder to his knee.

He was about to buzz the new tenant until he heard an familiar voice.

"Nick?"

"Shit," Gold muttered under his breath. _This day couldn't get any worse_.

The blonde girl across the street waving to greet him was none other than Ashley Boyd, a clingy one-night stand he made an effort to avoid. He saw her at the crosswalk waiting for the light to turn green. He began to rapidly press the buzzer leading to Granny's apartment. He'd rather face her wrath than this girl.

The crosswalk light turned green just as the apartment door clicked. He wrenched the door open and closed it quickly behind him. He hid behind a wall leading upstairs in case she happened to look through the window. He stood there, his back pressed against the wall for a long moment. He turned his head slowly to peek at the front door.

He saw a whip of blonde hair turn and disappear down the steps. She hadn't seen him, for which he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Gold!"

The sound of Granny's shout made him jump. He turned to see her standing at the top of the stairs.

_Fuck, woman! Give somebody a heart attack, why don't ya,_ were the words he would've shouted at her if he wanted to be homeless. Instead, he straightened up, adjusted his wrinkled tie and gave her a charming smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Lucas."

Sadly, she wasn't an easy person to charm. "Gold, this is the third time this week I had to let you in without a key. One more, and I'll leave you out there to freeze!"

"It is only the middle of September," he replied, trying to hide the snarky tone threatening to creep out. "The most that can happen at this time of year is me getting a possible heat stroke." He began walking up the stairs, and she followed him. She only lived one floor up from him.

"Keep buzzing me so early in the morning, _I'll_ be the one getting strokes," she muttered loud enough for him to hear. "I shouldn't have to be woken up just so you can avoid some poor girl whose heart you've broken the night before."

He gritted his teeth. He didn't think she had noticed Ashley.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she continued scolding as they reached his floor. "A man your age shouldn't be messing about with younger women. You need to start settling down with someone who can knock any sense into your head..."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lucas," he said with little hostility. The rest of it he managed to hold back. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Luckily for him, she let the issue go for now, and continued walking up the stairs to her own apartment she shared with her grand-daughter. He stopped in front of his door, reaching for the spare key he kept hidden under his welcome mat. Not the most creative hiding place, but convenient.

Once he was inside his apartment, he collapsed onto the dark blue couch at the end of the room. He was still tired from last night, and all he wanted to do was sleep the day away. He grabbed a set of ear plugs from the coffee table and shoved them into his ears. He kicked off his shoes, took off his belt, jacket, and tie, and let his head rest on a white throw pillow. He stared at the flat screen TV in front of him. He rarely watched TV, only when Regina or another acquaintance of his came over.

He had thought about what Granny had said about settling down. It came to Gold's mind every now and then. He would banish the thought just as quickly when he realized the only woman in his life he was actually close to was Regina. He could barely stand having sex with the woman let alone being her husband. The feeling was mutual for her as well.

_I'd rather die alone_, was his last thought before drifting off to sleep.


	2. New Neighbors

_**A/N: 18 followers?! I am so amazed by the response I have gotten just for the 1**__**st**__** chapter! Seriously, you guys are too much! Also, I apologize in advance for my lack of NYC knowledge and geography. I have never been there, but I'd like to visit. **_

**Chapter 2: New Neighbors**

Belle stepped out of the taxi, arriving back to her apartment after a long morning. After she had breakfast at the Blue Fairy's, she stopped by the Little Cottage Book Agency where Mary Margaret worked. They talked for over an hour mostly about how well her last novel had sold, and discussing ideas for another possible story. Most of what Miss Blanchard had suggested was storylines of the erotica genre thanks to the success of _Fifty Shades of Grey_. Belle had dismissed the idea, not exactly confident in herself to write stories of that nature. She had left feeling dejected, her writer's block getting worse.

She walked up the small staircase of her brown apartment building. Before she could unlock the door, she saw her reflection in the glass window beside her. There was a leaf stuck at the top of her brown hair. She giggled in spite of herself, removing the leaf and blowing on it so it would flit in the air for another minute before hitting the ground.

"Well, at least fall's on its way," she assured herself, sick of the humid weather. Fall was her second favorite time of year; first was spring. She loved wearing long sleeved blouses and skirts that went down to her ankles. She figured that her writing would improve if the weather was good.

She unlocked the door and entered the main hallway. She checked her mail, hoping for the letter her brother Jefferson had promised to write her. Jefferson Hatter was older than her, and her half-brother, both of them sharing the same mother. He was currently overseas in Afghanistan doing minor combat and computer work. They would Skype often, but she preferred hand written letters every now and then. He had nicer handwriting than hers.

Sadly, there was no letter from him. Most of them weren't even addressed to her. One was hers and three of them were for a _Nicholas Gold_ who lived in 3A. She lived in 4A, right above him.

She walked up the steps stopping at the third floor. The only people she had met in her new apartment was Granny Lucas the landlord, her grand-daughter Ruby, and one other woman who lived on her floor. She was understandably nervous.

She knocked on the door three times. She waited thirty seconds before knocking again when no one answered the door. There was still no answer.

_Hmm, must not be home_, she thought as she knelt down to try and slip the mail under the door.

Just as the envelopes touched the door, it pulled back. Surprised, Belle looked up to see a man with sand-brown hair and ruffled clothes standing above her. He looked like he just woke up from a nap as he stared sleepily at the stranger bent over on his doorstep.

Belle stood up, smoothing the blue skirt of her sundress. "I'm sorry for disturbing you," she said bashfully. "My name is Isabella French. I just moved into the building. The mailman seemed to have gotten our mail mixed…"

She stopped when she noticed him reaching his hands to his head to pull out earplugs. "What was that, dearie?" he asked, revealing he had a Scottish accent, his voice a mixture of apology and sleep.

Belle cleared her throat. "My name's Isabella French, I just moved into the building," she held out her hand for him to shake.

"I see," his eyebrows quirked up as he took her hand in his. She noted the rough texture of his palm. "I didn't get the memo that we had such a fine beauty as you moving into our building," he smiled, his accent seeming thicker.

Belle curiously arched her eyebrow up. Quite the charmer Nicholas Gold was. "You flatter me," she replied, her tone saying otherwise. "The mailman mixed our mail up," she held out the envelopes for him.

He took them from her, shuffling through them. He looked up at her suddenly. "What time is it?"

"Um…" she glanced at her watch. "Twelve thirty-six…"

She heard him mutter "shit" just as he dashed back into his apartment leaving the door open. She stared at the gaping hole a long moment, listening to his pounding footsteps, doors opening and closing, something breaking, followed by more cursing.

"Is everything alright in there?" she called out, tentatively taking a couple steps forward to peek through the door.

"Everything's peachy," he replied from the other room. "Would you be a dear and help me find my black shoes?"

Belle shrugged, stepping into the apartment. She was amazed by what she saw. Her first impression gave her the image that the older man was a slob. His apartment said otherwise.

The walls were a creamy white with portraits of green fields. A marble kitchen island worked as a barrier between the kitchen and the living room, much like her apartment upstairs did. A tall, black bookshelf stood next to the window overlooking the city. Across from that was a navy blue couch with a matching chair, and a mahogany coffee table. She looked under it to find a pair of black shoes, probably the ones he was looking for.

"I think I found them," she called out, leaning over to grab them.

"Find what exactly," asked a new voice.

Belle jolted back to her standing position to see a woman standing in front of the open apartment door. She had short black hair and her face was heavy with make-up. She wore a short-sleeved, silk-pink dress with a V-neck and a skirt that touched just above the knee, and black high-heels. She was giving Belle an accusing look. This must've been Nicholas' girlfriend.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice feeling shaky again. "I just stopped by to…"

"Regina," Mr. Gold greeted half-heartedly, stepping into the living room from the hallway. He looked a lot nicer than earlier when Belle knocked on his door; more cleaned up. He wore a black suit jacket with matching pants with a purple button-up shirt. A blue and purple tie hung unknotted around his neck. "I didn't expect to see you here so early."

"You forgot again, didn't you," she grinned as if she was used to hearing that greeting.

"Me forget about you?" he smiled ever so bewitching. "I would never wish it."

Belle caught him crossing his fingers behind his back. She kept silent, hiding her amusement.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your… friend?" the way she said 'friend' suggested they were more than just.

"Of course," he turned to her. "Miss French, this is my agent, Regina Mills. Regina, this is Isabella French. She's new to the building."

"Call me Belle," the brunette smiled, holding out her hand.

"I'm sure I will," Regina smirked, shaking her hand. Belle sensed a quiet hostility in her.

"Oh, I found your shoes," Belle turned to Gold, holding the black loafers up for him.

He nodded his thanks and sat down on his couch to put them on. "So, where did you move here from?" he asked in an attempt to avoid awkward silences.

"Oh, just a small city in Nevada," Belle replied.

"Nick, if we don't hurry, we're going to miss that meeting with Mal," Regina warned, glancing at her watch.

Nick looked up. He seemed he was about to give her a lecture on manners. "Regina…"

"That's okay," Belle waved them off. "I have a lot of work to do anyway." She wasn't lying. She still needed to finish unpacking, and spend the rest of the evening staring at her laptop waiting for her writer's block to clear up. "It was nice to meet you, Ms. Mills… Mr. Gold."

She left just as quickly as she came in. She ascended the stairwell, walking to her own room. She was thankful to get away from that awkward scenario.

…..

"And there we go," Belle smiled, pleased with herself.

She just got done unpacking the last box. All she had to do was hang up her pictures and find the right place for all of her vases and knick knacks. Hopefully Ruby would keep on her promise to help her decorate.

She plopped onto her maroon couch, letting her head fall against the plush pillow. She breathed, wishing she could fall asleep, but the screen of her laptop was glaring at her. Music still played in the media player she had running while unpacking. She could easily write a suspense story and try to get that published like last time, but her heart wasn't in it. She wanted to write something meaningful; something that would tug at the heartstrings.

Not that suspense stories weren't meaningful. The one she wrote just wasn't good enough for her.

Her laptop started beeping, letting her know that someone was trying to get a hold of her Skype account. She sat up and saw the familiar username, and smiled. She muted the music and turned her webcam on. Jefferson's grinning face filled her screen.

"Hey Jeff!" she greeted.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked.

"Nothing much," she shrugged. "I just finished unpacking."

"Oh that's right," he remembered with a nod. "How's the Big Apple?"

"Well, I'm not literally _in_ the Big Apple, I'm in a smaller place just outside of it," she corrected.

"But you have a New York City address," he mentioned. "Speaking of which, I just sent you a letter today."

"About time!" she exclaimed in mock impatience.

"Hey, we talk almost every night on here," he defended himself. "What could I write in a letter that we don't talk about on here?"

"I don't know," Belle thought for a moment. "Story ideas?"

Jeff looked at her sympathetically. "Still can't think of anything?"

Belle sighed and fell back into the couch. "I don't know about this. I'm still earning some money from the last one, but what if people suddenly stop buying it? What if what I wrote was just a one-time fluke? What if…"

"Sis, if you say 'what if' one more time, I'm stealing a helicopter so I can fly over there and smack you," he warned.

"Is that a promise?" she grinned, more than happy at the idea of having him home.

He chuckled. "Of course it is." He straightened up and Belle could easily see the camo uniform he was wearing. "Listen, you are a damn good writer; always have been. Remember that short story you wrote for me when I started high school?"

Belle smiled at the memory. "Yes. You were afraid that everything that happened to freshmen in those 80's movies would happen to you-"

"-and you wrote me a story about a boy who wore a talisman that kept anybody from touching him," he finished for her.

"You're kidding right? My grammar was horrible, and the storyline had so many plot holes!"

"But it made me feel better," he told her seriously. "Just give it some time. You'll find the right idea soon enough, and I demand an autographed copy be sent to me."

She nodded, her hopes being lifted again. "I promise," she said, remembering sending him a copy of her first novel when it came out.

"So, how are your neighbors?" he switched subjects. "Any _hot guys_ next door?" he waggled her eyebrows at her. Belle would sometimes forget that Jefferson was her older brother when he would ask questions about her love life like a teenage girl.

Belle shook her head, "Jeff, I'm not looking for love right now. Gary and I haven't been over for that long."

"And thank God for that," he agreed. "Seriously, what did you ever see in that man?"

"Papa liked him," she said simply.

"Mr. French use to like the Green Bay Packers, but I never saw you dating any of them," he countered. "Besides, I didn't ask if you found a boyfriend, just if you are attracted to any of your neighbors."

Her thoughts went to the one male neighbor she had met since moving in, and she scrunched her face. Nicholas Gold was handsome for someone who looked to be in their mid-forties, but she didn't know enough about him. "I wouldn't say 'attracted,'" she blurted, then covered her mouth.

"So there _is_ someone!" He taunted, pointing his finger at her through the webcam. "Ha!"

"There is _nobody_," she argued.

"Of course there isn't," he teased. The buzzing sound rang through Belle's computer and Jefferson turned around to see more uniformed men walking behind him. "I gotta go," he told her. "I'll chat with you tomorrow, 'kay?"

"See ya then," she waved, shutting down her Skype.

She fell back into the couch again. She didn't feel as tired as she thought. She was deciding whether to sit out on the fire escape or watch a movie until she fell asleep. She mentally went through her movie collection in her head, deciding she didn't want to watch any of them.

She got up and headed to her bathroom where the fire escape was located. She climbed through the window and leaned against the metal fence, her arms crossed over each other. The part of New York City she lived in was like the small city town square she grew up in. From her window, she could see the big city and the small bridge that led to it. It was beautiful at night, all lit up. She wished the fire escape was slightly bigger. She would've loved to put up a patio table and drink coffee on it like the apartments in _Friends_.

"Maybe a folding chair would work," she mused.

She heard noises coming from one of the windows below. She looked down to see it lit up and wide open. Feeling like the sleuth detective in her novel, she slipped her noisy shoes off and started climbing down the ladder next to her.

Once she reached the window below her, she leaned against the brick wall next to it, arching slightly to peek through the window. She saw a bedroom with a king-sized bed and black satin sheets. The walls were the same cream white as her apartment rooms and Nicholas Gold's. The door across from the bed opened and in walked the black haired woman she met earlier: Regina Mills.

She wore the same dress from earlier, but that along with her hair looked slightly ruffled. She held her high heels in one hand and a pair of panty hose and purse in the other. Belle noticed, with a blush, that the bed was unmade.

She looked away for a second, feeling very intrusive. She registered the whirring sound she heard earlier as the shower running. That must've been where Nick was now. She peeked over again, watching Regina slip her tights and high heels on while whistling. She pulled a small mirror out of her purse and began fixing her hair. She smiled at her reflection, satisfied with her fix-up. She replaced the mirror in her purse and then pulled out a wad of cash. She sifted through, mouthing numbers as she went. She straightened them back together and placed the stack of bills onto the nightstand. Then she stood up and walked out.

It was very odd, Belle had thought, to see his girlfriend leaving money behind and leaving. Then she thought, maybe she wasn't his girlfriend after all. She gasped. Was she a prostitute? She shook her head. _She paid _him, she reminded herself. Did that mean Gold was a prostitute?

_I should leave_, Belle decided. She and Nicholas were not friends in anyway. Hell, they only just met that day. What he did with his agent was none of her business.

She started to climb the ladder, but then her foot slid on the second step, causing her to slip and fall.

"Ah!" she yelped, her butt hitting the metal ground hard. Her arm scraped against the metal on the way down, making her wince. She closed her eyes, cursing her clumsiness and hoping nobody had heard her.

"Belle?"

Her eyes snapped open to see Nicholas Gold leaning out the window, perplexed to see her. All was silent a moment. Belle's insides twisted in fear of being caught spying on his apartment. _I need to run. I need to just climb up the ladder and get out of here. We can spend our days avoiding each other, turning the other way if we see each other across the hall._

Instead, she squeaked out, "Hi, Mr. Gold."

His perturbed expression did not change. "What the hell are you doing?"

Belle bit her lip, trying to think of a good reason to be traipsing about on other people's fire escapes. "I was just taking a nightly stroll," she smiled sheepishly.

"On the fire escape?"

She shrugged. "I heard the streets here were dangerous. I figured I had less of a chance getting mugged up here."

It was then Belle realized that Nicholas Gold was half naked. All he wore was a towel around his waist. His hair was stringy and damp from his shower, and the light coming from his bedroom highlighted his frame. He wasn't as toned and buff as Gary was, but she thought his skinny frame and the tiny pooch of his stomach looked nice enough. She averted her gaze, hoping he couldn't see the blush forming on her face.

"Well, I don't know about being mugged," he mused, his voice bringing her out of her thoughts, "but injuring yourself is always a possibility," he nodded at her forearm that uselessly held on to the rail.

She pulled it back and noticed a nasty gash from wear the jagged metal tore at her skin while she fell. She rolled her eyes and huffed. "Why am I not surprised," she stated, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Keeping one hand on the window sill, Gold held his hand out to her. "Come on, I have a first aid kit."

She stared at his hand, almost afraid to take it as if it were a snake about to bite her. She then turned to see his face. He didn't look as hostile as one would expect. He seemed a little worried. Hesitatingly, she obliged, grabbing his hand which was still warm and a little wet. He helped her through his window and her bare feet met hardwood floor.

"Just head on into the kitchen and I'll meet you there," he instructed.

Belle nodded in response, leaving his bedroom and giving him his privacy. She stood in the living room while she waited, just as she was told. Her attention headed straight for the bookshelf. She ran her finger along the spines of the books, noticing he had a selection of classics like _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and _The Catcher in the Rye_. He also had a few lesser known bestsellers from John Grisham. It was quite a collection of books, Belle had mused. She would have to borrow some from him.

"Impressed?" his voice came from behind her.

She spun around to see him standing by the couch wearing a pair of brown pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. He held a first aid kit in one hand, the other one behind his back. It took her a moment to notice he was smirking at her.

"It's a nice set," she admitted. "Some of them look very old."

"Those I have had since I was a teenager," he explained, sitting on the couch. "It's rare that I ever get a writer's opinion on how I decorate my bookshelf."

She looked quizzical. "How did you know I was a writer?"

From his back, he unveiled a hardcover book with a green spine with the title _Something in the Attic_. She recognized it as her book.

"I found a copy of it at the grocery store while I was out today," Nicholas replied to her stunned expression. "Thought I could get an autograph, maybe sell it on eBay."

"Funny," she said sarcastically. "I don't think it will go for much money." She walked over to sit next to him on the couch.

He set the book down on the table and opened the first aid kit, taking out some cotton swabs and peroxide. "Not everyone's debut novel hits the bestsellers list. Give it a few years and some more novels. You never know…"

"I'll keep that in mind."

Belle held her arm out, and he gently held her wrist steady. He took a cotton swab dipped in peroxide and lightly dabbed it against her cut. She winced at the touch. "So…" she tried to break the silence. "What kind of job do you do that requires an agent?"

"Oh, nothing much," Nick's face scrunched into a frown. "I've been in a couple of local commercials."

"So, you're an actor?"

"To put it simply, yes."

She arched her eyebrow up curiously. "And to _not_ put it simply?"

Nick looked up at her, meeting her gaze. "It's complicated."

His immediate silence told Belle to drop it. She went for another question. "I noticed you had a Scottish accent earlier."

He smiled as he put the peroxide away and grabbed an oversized Band-Aid. "Yes, I am from Glasgow."

"I've seen pictures of it in books growing up," she chimed in. "Is it as beautiful in real life?"

He paused, placing the bandage over her cut. "It's a lovely country, but I'd rather be here."

"Why did you leave?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Well, looks like you're all fixed," he stated, pretending she didn't say anything. "I need to get some rest and I suggest you do too." He stood up and began to usher her out the front door.

"Wait a minute," Belle stopped midway through the living room. "Would you like to have breakfast tomorrow?"

It was an odd request, she had to admit, but there was something about Nicholas Gold that made her want to be around him, like solving a mystery that's waiting to be uncovered.

"What?"

"Or lunch, whatever works for you," she stammered, folding her hands together. "I'd like to talk more… about books and things," she added, not sure if he would ask why she wanted to hang out with him.

He pursed his lips in thought, and then smiled. "Breakfast it is."

She smiled as he opened the door for her. "Thank you, Mr. Gold."

"Please, call me Nick."

"Okay… Nick," she shrugged sheepishly and walked out the door.

…

He stared at the closed door a long moment. From what he had deciphered, Isabella French was a peculiar person, but she seemed nice enough. Regina wasn't too keen on her when they met; but then again, Regina never liked anyone acquainted with him, especially if they invade on "her" time.

He clicked his tongue, feeling his usual distaste for his manager coming to surface. _At least she pays well_, he reminded himself, thinking of the money she had left on his nightstand.

He went back over to the couch and pick up his copy of _Something in the Attic_. He glanced at the back cover, smiling back at the picture of Belle smiling at the photographer. He had heard good things about her novel over the past few months from the parties he attended with Regina, but never got around to reading it. He thought better late than never as he opened up to the first page.

He was disturbed by a knock on the door. He involuntarily put the book down to answer his door. Belle French stood before him once again, looking embarrassed.

"I…" she trailed off a second. "I left my key upstairs. I need to use the fire escape again."


	3. The First Breakfast

_**A/N:** Ack! This chapter was painful! I think I'm getting sympathy pains for Belle. I write about a character with writer__'__s block, and suddenly, I can't think of things to write! Oh well, at least it got finished :) Hope you all enjoy!_

**Chapter 3: The First Breakfast**

"This is absurd," Belle frowned at her reflection in the mirror.

She had waked up extra early that morning just so she could find an outfit to wear for breakfast with Nicholas Gold. She tried on a bunch of different things, but nothing seemed to fit. After about the fifth dress (Which she was currently flaunting off in the bathroom mirror), she decided she was being ridiculous.

She was only having breakfast with a neighbor she accidently spied on the previous night. It wasn't like she was going to a fancy dinner in the city.

Still, she wanted to look presentable.

Belle went back to her closet, changing out of her plaid dress and settling for a pair of tan caprees and a short-sleeved emerald blouse. She threw in a pair of brown sandals and took the hair-tie out of her curly-brown hair. She stared at herself in the mirror for the thousandth time, finally happy with her appearance.

The clock on her cell phone read eight twenty-five am. Before she left through the fire escape last night (She had left her keys in her room), they decided eight-thirty was a good time to meet for breakfast. Not too early, and not too late.

She glanced at her bathroom window where the fire escape was, wondering if she should enter his apartment through that way again. Would he laugh? Would he get a restraining order? She then thought back to what he was wearing when he found her on his fire escape the night before: nothing but a towel.

The thought was quickly banished.

…

Meanwhile, Nick was staring at his fridge. It was half empty, and he hadn't had the chance to go grocery shopping. He knew he had to before tomorrow night, he was sure of that. Regina had decided he host a small party at his apartment. Not that he had any say in it or anything…

That he could worry about in the future. What worried him now was the present.

What was he thinking agreeing to have breakfast with her? And why _breakfast_? Lunch or dinner he could understand, but breakfast wasn't normal unless you worked in a big office and decided to grab something on your way to work in the carpool.

Not to mention he wasn't much of a morning person.

He had forced himself to wake up earlier than his usual ten-thirty, threw on the most decent outfit he could think of (Blue jeans and a white button-up shirt) and brushed his teeth. It wasn't as if they were going out or anything like that, right?

He wasn't sure of this idea when she had offered, and he was going to decline. But there was something about Belle that he couldn't quite understand. She was beautiful, no doubt about that. She looked like most of the girls he'd run into at Regina's parties. He'd have sex with them the same night, and do his best to avoid them the next day if they got too clingy. The only difference between them and Belle was that Belle was obviously not the type of girl you'd fuck then leave behind the next morning. She was a lot smarter than that. He could tell from her writing style.

He had actually stayed up most of the night reading her book. It was very good and left him on the edge of his seat most of the time. He eventually forced himself to put it down just so he could get some rest.

Nicholas frowned at the contents of his fridge. The only decent food in there was half a jug of milk (Which he was positive was almost expired) and a carton of eggs. The rest was just junk food and condiments. Rarely does he ever prepare meals. Not even Regina eats at his place.

He shut the refrigerator just as a knock sounded on his front door. He cursed under his breath, knowing the most that he was going to be able to offer her was coffee. He opened the door to reveal Belle standing on the other side, her fist raised in case she needed to knock again. She quickly turned it into a wave. "Good morning," she smiled.

"That has yet to be seen," he quipped, trying his best to grin despite how tired he felt.

He stepped aside to let her in. He watched as she glanced around the apartment, noting her casual attire. "I'm sorry to say that I don't have much of anything to cook this morning," he admitted.

She turned to look at him. He sort of expected her to say some kind of smart remark or to scold him for not being prepared; stuff Regina would normally do. Instead, she smiled waved it off. "It's alright; I have a meeting with my agent around noon for lunch. I usually have just coffee in the morning anyway."

_Thank you, God_, Nicholas mentally praised as he walked into the kitchen to check on the pot he started earlier. Belle sat down in a stool at the island/bar.

"A meeting with your agent?" he asked as he grabbed two tea cups from the cabinet. "Discussing your new book?"

"Eh… Sort of," she made an unsure motion with her hand. "She and I are just going to spend the first fifteen minutes trying to clear my writer's block, and then spend the next hour talking about _Dancing with the Stars_."

"Aye, writer's block," he nodded feeling sympathy for her. He didn't write himself, but he read a lot about how author's struggled with inspiration. "Is that why you moved to New York? Thought coming here would give you better ideas?"

"That and it was easier on Mary Margaret, my agent," she added. "She lives here, of course, and it's easier to have meetings when you're face-to-face instead of over the phone."

The coffee machine beeped, signaling that the brew was finished. "Cream and sugar?" Nick asked, turning off the machine.

"Yes and two lumps."

He went about fixing both of their cups. "How did your family feel about the decision to leave?"

Belle was quiet. He glanced at her over his shoulder, noting how she glanced at the kitchen sink, looking unsure of herself. He bit his lip before stating, "Sore subject."

Her gaze snapped back to him. "Oh, not like that," she shook her head. "It's just… My father passed away three months ago," she folded her hands together, tangling her fingers back and forth.

He nodded, knowing the feeling full well. "Your mother?" he dared ask.

"They were divorced long ago. We don't talk much," she waved her off. "I only talk to her son, my half-brother I mean."

"You two are close?" he asked, placing her teacup in front of her.

She nodded, grinning. "We've been through a lot together. He's in Afghanistan right now. He mostly does technical stuff for the army."

He took the stool next to her, blowing on his coffee before taking a sip. "How long has he been there?"

"About a month," she shrugged. "What about you?" she tried to change the subject. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"An older sister," he admitted. Nicholas didn't like to talk about himself too much, unless he was trying to woo women, and even then he didn't talk about personal stuff. "She and I don't really talk."

"I see," she took a sip of her own drink, deciding not to pester him about it. "So, you told me you're an actor. Have you been in anything I might recognize?"

He shook his head. "Just a couple of corny commercials advertising car insurance. Some I just walk around in the background when they do those big scenes in Time Square."

"Do you enjoy it?"

He scrunched his face in thought. Sure, it didn't pay as much as most TV actors got paid, but at least he could pay his rent and feed himself from what he earned. "I'm content with it," he told her.

Belle arched her eyebrow at him. "But there's something else you'd rather be doing?" she asked, reading his facial expression very well.

He stared at her a moment. Her blue eyes were boring into him waiting for him to admit his true desires, her lips parted slightly. He felt a knot forming in his stomach, and he wasn't sure why. He shook his head, thinking he put too much sugar in his drink.

"I read part of your book last night," he said, switching subjects on her this time. "It was hard to put down," he smiled his charming smile as he stood up to pour what was left of his coffee down the sink.

Belle was obviously put off by this, but she still held her smile. "I'm glad you're enjoying it," she said honestly.

"I'm assuming that if I ask who murdered the owner of the Rutherford Estate, you wouldn't tell me?" he looked at her conspiratorially.

She smirked at him. "You assume right, Mr. Gold."

Nicholas bit back the urge to scold her for calling him _Mr. Gold_ and continued. "What if I spouted off every character I've met so far and you just tell me yes or no?"

She shook her head. "You can name off characters, but I'd say no to all of them, even if you got it." She then gave him a look. "I'm surprised you're asking me about spoilers at all since you claim to be such an avid reader."

He shrugged guiltily. "Hey, I don't get to chat with authors often."

"Uh huh," she replied in a tone that sounded as if she didn't believe him, and took another drink of coffee.

He leaned against the bar, his elbows resting on the counter top and his hands folded together under his chin. "So, how did the idea for _Something in the Attic_ come about?"

"There was this big house in the town I grew up in," she explained. "All the kids in the neighborhood said a rich man lived there, but no one had ever seen anyone come or go from the house. Sometime in high school, I found out a retired politician lived there," she laughed at the memory, when her father had her deliver flowers to that house one afternoon. She was almost afraid to knock on the door.

"So that was the house that inspired the Rutherford Estate the detective was investigating?"

"Exactly."

Nicholas cocked his head to the side. "Is there anything you _can _tell me about it?"

Belle thought a moment before answering, "There's not going to be a sequel."

He let out a breath, feeling almost defeated. "And now you can't think of what to write next?"

She shook her head. "They say to write what you know, but I don't think there's much more I know that would interest anyone."

Nick's gaze transferred to the window next to his bookshelf that overlooked the city. "Maybe you should take more walks around town. Get a feel of the scenery and wait for something to pop out at you."

She pursed her lips. It sounded like a nice idea. "Do you think it'd work?"

He shrugged. "If J.K. Rowling can get an idea from riding around on a train, I don't see why it wouldn't work for walking."

She grinned, liking the sound of just going on a walk anyway. "I'll have to keep that in mind."

Just then, Belle's cellphone started ringing. She pulled it out of her pocket, the caller ID read _Mary Margaret_. She answered it, asking for Nicholas' pardon.

After two minutes, Belle hung up. "I have to get going," she told him apologetically. "My agent says she needs to see me right away."

"Oh, it's not a problem," he waved her off. "I have some straightening up I have to do before tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" she asked.

He took her empty mug off the counter and put in the sink as he talked. "I'm having a get-together with a few friends of mine." Just then, a thought struck him. "Would you like to come?"

Belle went silent, the question catching her off guard. "Um, well…" she trailed off. "I wouldn't be intruding, would I?" She felt the need to ask. He was probably friends with a bunch of actors that made more money in one week than she did from her only novel.

He looked at her pointedly. "If I invite you, it's not intruding," he said seriously. "Besides, I said my friends were invited. We are friends… right?"

They stood there, silent for a moment. Belle hadn't really thought of it that way. Then again, she revealed more about herself in the last few minutes than she ever revealed to any of her friends back home. After a while, she nodded. "I'd like to think we are."

Nicholas smirked. "So is that a yes?"

"It's a yes," she smiled at him just as she walked out the door.

Nick had to admit he was getting fond of her smiles.

…..

After Belle had left and he had finished getting ready, Nick went into town and started grocery shopping. He had to make a list of things to get according to "Regina Mills' Perfect Party Planning Guide" which, in his mind, was code for "Shit Only She Likes".

He had looked over the list as he entered the store, frowning at the word _anchovies_. "Who the hell do we know that eats anchovies?" he asked himself.

Just as he was about to head to the seafood section,his phone started ringing. He knew from his ringtone that it was the Devil in high-heels herself. "Yes, dearie?" he answered.

"Hello, Nick," she cooed over the line. "How are you today?"

He pressed his mouth into a thin line. "Oh, you know. How I am how I usually am."

"Hmpf, cryptic as usual, I see," he could hear the sarcasm loud and clear. "Listen, I was just calling to tell you that I won't be able to make it tomorrow."

He straightened up, giving her his full attention. "Why is that?" he asked, faking disappointment.

"Daniel's in town, and I am _eager_ to spend some much needed time with him," she sighed as if she was sorry that she wanted to be with her husband more than she did with him (Which of course, he could care less). "I hope you're not…"

"No, I understand completely," he assured her. "It's important that you two have the time you two need together."

"So you're not upset?"

"I'll manage," he said through gritted teeth.

After saying their goodbyes, Nick shoved the phone back into his pants pocket. He crumpled up Regina's grocery list and tossed it at the nearest trash can. Now he had the freedom to do as he pleased at his own party, and Belle wouldn't have to walk around being glared at the whole night.

….

After a long meeting, Belle finally made it back to her apartment. As she had predicted, nothing had come to mind during their meeting. They eventually changed subjects, Mary Margaret showing off some new baby pictures of her daughter, Emma. She was a cute little thing, Belle had thought. She had her mother eyes and chin, and her father's hair color.

She had always wondered what her own kids would look like. She thought about it more when she was with Gary. Jefferson would always joke saying he hoped they would have her intelligence. Belle would use to scold him for comments like that, but after she and Gary broke up, she'd laugh at them now.

She unlocked her mailbox, pulling out what mail she had. Above a magazine was a blue envelope with her name written in beautiful cursive. Curious, she turned it over to find a white Post-it note stuck to the back that read:

_Here's a formal invitation. Better late than never _

_Nicholas Gold_

She grinned, opening it and peeking inside to see an invite to the party he had invited her to Friday night. She ran up the stairs to her apartment, wondering what she was going to wear.


	4. Party Time

**A/N:**_** This chapter was pretty fun to write. The party scene was one of my favorite parts of the movie along with the day of firsts. I hope you all enjoy it! If you'd like, there are links to Belle's outfit from this chapter in my profile :)**_

**Chapter 4: Party Time**

"How about this one?"

"Nah, too much pink."

Belle held her hands up. "What's wrong with pink?"

Jefferson scrunched his nose up. "It's too girly."

"I _am _a girl!"

"But you don't act like it!"

The brunette groaned and stomped back into the bedroom. This was the sixth dress her older brother had rejected. It was getting on her nerves, and he counted himself lucky that he was watching this through the Skype camera and not in person. He'd have lumps on his head by now.

Belle had asked her brother to help her find a dress for Nick Gold's party that night. She told him everything about when they first met to their breakfast the previous morning. Jefferson proceeded to tease her about it.

"You gotta _cru-ush_!" he sing-songed.

"I do not!" she kept defending herself. "He's just my friend. Besides, he's about fifteen years older than me."

"So? Liam Neeson's like, what, sixty? You find _him_ attractive," he countered.

She rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore him as she asked for his help to find a good dress. After more teasing, especially towards her clumsiness when she mentioned the fire escape incident, he said yes.

She had tried on six dresses, and he had said no to all of them. She went back into the bedroom to change out of her last dress which was a pale pink, sleeveless dress with a low v-neck. It reminded her of the dress she saw Regina in. Belle figured Nick's agent would be there, too. She knew she couldn't compete with her as far as looks go.

"If you don't have a crush on this guy," Jefferson's voice called from the laptop in the living room to her bedroom, "Then why are you so adamant on looking perfect?"

"I'm _always_ adamant about looking my best," she reminded him, slipping out of her dress. "Plus, he's an actor, so there's probably going to be a lot of big wig agents, other actors, and what-not."

"A room full of famous people? You'll fit right in."

She rolled her eyes, and stuck her head out the door so she could see his face on the laptop. "I told you, I'm not that famous."

He ignored that, not wanting to argue over that again. "I hate to rush this, but I only have a limited time I can be here."

Belle frowned, immediately feeling guilty about wasting precious free moments talking about something as trivial as finding a dress. She wished more than anything that it was December already, since that was when he said he'd be coming home. "Do you have any suggestions as to what I should wear?" she asked, more gently.

He bit his lip in thought, then said, "Browns or reds. Tomorrow's the first day of fall."

She nodded, disappearing back into her room. She zoomed over to the closet, going near the far end of the rack (Her outfits were color coordinated), and found a skin-tight brown dress with an oversized turtleneck collar, and short sleeves that only covered the shoulder. Smiling, she took it off the rack and slipped it on.

Once she stepped out of the doorway, she heard Jefferson wolf whistle. "Now _that_ is what I'm talking about!"

Belle smiled, pleased with her selection as well. _Now I just have to find the right pair of shoes…_

….

It started off as just casual. The room wasn't filled up yet, only a few stragglers sipping drinks. Nick stood near the door ready to welcome guests in. His friend, Archie Hopper, roamed around the room admiring the pictures on his wall and his book collection. He would come over every now and again to strike up a conversation and then go to talk to some of the other people that thought to arrive early.

There was a knock on the door. Gold went to answer it, almost expecting a few other people he didn't know to walk through the door. When he opened the door, he saw a more pleasing sight.

Belle stood right in front of him, smiling shyly and looking very gorgeous. She wore a tight, brown dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, a black belt around her waist, and high heeled shoes to match. He noticed that she also straightened her hair as opposed to her usual curly do. He stood there a moment, drinking her in with his gaze.

"Um," Belle's voice piped through as she eyed him curiously. "Are you going to let me in?"

"Hmm?" he almost didn't hear, her words sinking in slowly. "Oh, right! Come on in."

He stepped out of the way to let her through. "I guess I'm a little early," she said, noticing the quiet crowd.

"That means you get first dibs on the food," he joked. He cleared his throat as he shut the door. "You look... Nice."

"Thank you," she smiled, looking down at her outfit. "You look good, too," she gestured towards his dark suit and blue button-up shirt.

"One must look his best when hosting a party," he smirked.

"Is that so," she cocked her eyebrows upwards.

"Nick, you wouldn't happen to have any mustard, would you?" Archie asked, popping up by Gold's side.

Gold pressed his lips into a thin line, mentally cursing his mood-killing friend. "I think I'm out," he shrugged. "I apologize."

"Oh, there's no need," Archie waved it off, turning his head to see who Nick was talking too. "Oh, hello."

"Hi," Belle greeted. "I'm Belle French, I'm Nicholas' neighbor."

"Archie Hopper," he shook her hand.

"Archie works for the same agency as Regina," Nick told Belle, trying to impress her. "He knows all of the big time famous people; Especially Nora Roberts."

Belle seemed to brighten up. "Really? That's incredible!"

"Hopper," Nick clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Tomorrow, I want you to call Mrs. Roberts and let her know that Miss French here is one of the best writers out there, and is willing to give her a run for her money."

"Oh, no I…" It was Belle's turn to feel embarrassed.

"Don't blush, dearie," Nick told her, noticing her red cheeks. "You didn't say it, I did." There was another knock at the door. "If you'll both excuse me for a sec," he told them, heading towards his apartment door.

"So, I take it you're a writer?" Archie asked Belle once Nick was out of sight.

"Oh, yes, I am," she replied, then asked him. "So, you met Nicholas through Regina?"

"Actually, I introduced _him _to Regina," he corrected.

"Oh…" Belle said. She glanced at the crowd around, taking note that the room was being filled with more people. "Is Regina going to be here tonight?" she whispered to Archie.

He shook his head. "Nick told me that she was spending time with her husband tonight."

"… I see," she did her best to hold back her surprise. She had thought they were dating before and never bothered to ask him about it. Then she remembered catching Regina leaving money on his nightstand a couple of nights ago. Was she _paying_ Gold to have an affair with her? _Belle, stop it, it's none of your business_, she scolded herself. Even though he said they were friends, she didn't know him well enough to pry into his personal life.

She noticed Archie was still staring at her, waiting for her to say something.

"How did you and Nick meet?" she asked him. Maybe she could find out more about him through an outside source.

Archie grabbed a hand full of Chex mix from a bowl nearby and began speaking. "He came to New York about two years ago, from Scotland. I met him at an audition for a TV pilot. He didn't get it. His accent was so thick, no one could understand him," he chuckled at the memory. "I offered to help him out. I was a speech therapist when I was younger, and I helped him thin his accent out."

"Ah, so _you're_ the reason he sounds so elegant," she teased him.

He glanced down in embarrassment for a moment. "Yeah, he puts the training to use on the ladies more than he does his career."

_Wouldn't be surprised_, she commented, taking into account his 'charming' personality. "So, after helping him with dialect, you introduced him to Regina?"

"Yes. After a couple of auditions, Regina offered to be his agent," he said, then dropped his voice low for only her to hear. "Not to sound vain, but I think I would be a better choice than her."

"Why's that?" she matched his low tone.

"Regina…" he trailed off, trying to think of the right word to say. "She doesn't… Take her job seriously."

Belle nodded, thinking she knew what he meant.

"He has potential to go far, especially in live theatre," he continued, "but she keeps him to auditioning for small things like commercials."

"Have you told him that?"

He shook his head. "He doesn't listen to me much. I don't think he takes his career seriously either."

She looked at him skeptically. "But wasn't acting the reason he came to America in the first place?"

He scrunched his nose in thought. "You know, I just assume that's the reason, but he never actually revealed his reasons."

Belle frowned. That idea failed.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" asked Nick as he stood next to Belle and handed her a glass of champagne.

"Oh, nothing much," she smiled bringing the glass to her lips.

"Just talking to Miss French about her writing," Archie lied, grabbing another handful of Chex mix.

"What did I tell ya?" he grinned, patting Belle on the shoulder.

…..

After an hour and a half, the apartment was halfway filled with people. Most of them clumped up into groups and talked about different things. Nick noticed, with amusement, that Astrid was already drunk (Being the lightweight that she is). She was staring at herself in the floor length mirror he had hanging in the hallway, and laughing hysterically at her reflection.

He was leaning against the wall being blocked off by a crowd of people talking around him. Across the way, he could see Belle chatting it up with a few guests, including Ruby Lucas. He wasn't sure how the landlord's granddaughter got in, but he knew that if Granny Lucas found her here, she'd have a conniption. He didn't know why, honestly. The girl was only in her mid-twenties. Archie was with them, too. He could see the poor man's face turning red just from Ruby looking at her.

Nick stood there, watching Belle for a few minutes, admiring her ability to carry on a casual conversation with people she didn't know. The way she smiled and laughed at Archie's jokes made him want to smile himself (Even though he knew all of his jokes were corny).

She excused herself from Archie and Ruby, the latter two seeming to be in their own little conversation. Belle squeezed her way through the crowd and made to the snack table where she would be by herself.

Taking this as his opportune moment, he noticed the woman next to him who had her back turned on him. She was blocking his way. Smirking, he took his cold glass and pressed it against the small of her uncovered back, causing her to jump. When she moved, he started to saunter the pathway before him. He could hear the woman cursing at him for that, but he just ignored them.

Finally, he found himself at the snack table with Belle. "Having fun," he asked, taking sip of his drink.

"I am," she answered honestly. "How many of these people do you actually know?"

He glanced around the room, taking in the number of people in this room alone. "Maybe eight."

She looked at him incredulous. "You don't think this will get out of hand, will you?"

He shook his head, chuckling. "I doubt things could get worse."

"Yoohoo!" came a familiar voice from his front door.

_I should stop speaking too soon._

A woman with curly, blonde hair bobbed in a Marilyn Monroe fashion, and donning a floor length purple dress entered the room, waving to someone on the other side of the apartment that she recognized.

"Mallory Carabosse," he muttered with disdain.

Belle looked at him curiously. "Mallory Carabosse? As in the Carabosse fashion line?"

"One of the top fashion lines in the country," he confirmed, then frowned, noticing she wasn't alone. "And she brought a young piece of arm candy with her."

Belle glanced over to see a handsome man with scruffy brown hair and a goatee. He had his arm wrapped around Miss Carabosse in an escort fashion. He watched as a shocked look of recognition crossed her features.

"Oh my goodness!" she dropped her voice to a whisper as if the man could hear her from across the room. "That's Graham Hunter!"

"Who?" Nick asked.

"Graham Hunter," she repeated. "He's a famous singer from Ireland!"

"Is that so?" he glanced over at the man coyly saying hello to everyone Mal introduced him to. "I've never heard of him."

"That's because he's only famous in Ireland," she pointed out. "I like to listen to music from other countries," she admitted sheepishly.

Nick looked back and forth from Graham to Belle, and grinned. "Well, now's your chance to meet him."

"What, no…" she had no time to argue. He was already dragging her across the room to meet him.

"Nicholas, darling!" she greeted once Nick and Belle appeared at her side. She grabbed him by the shoulders and placed a kiss on each cheek, much to his annoyance. "What a lovely party!"

"Thank you, Mal," he smiled at her. "It's great to see you could make it."

"Honey, I wouldn't miss this for anything- oh," she noticed Belle standing by his side. "And who is this beauty?" she asked, cupping the girl's face.

"Um, my name's Isabella French," Belle replied nervously, holding out her hand to shake.

"Oh, a fitting name," the woman shook her hand. "Mallory Carabosse, and this," she gestured towards her guest who stood stiff by her side, "is my friend, Graham Hunter. Graham, this is Nicholas Gold."

"A pleasure, Mr. Hunter," Gold shook his hand.

He nodded, and went to shake Belle's hand. Nick watched her surprised face with amusement.

"So, how do you all know each other?" asked Belle.

"Nicholas here modeled a few outfits from my men's line," Mal confirmed, patting Nick on the arm.

"Oh, really?" Belle turned her head to glance at Gold, slightly amused. She couldn't imagine him being the type to strut down a runway in ridiculous outfits.

"Of course," Mal smiled, dragging Belle's attention back to her. "Graham here has signed on to model my latest line," she smiled at her companion. "He's a musician back home."

"I thought he looked familiar," Nick pointed, feigning surprise. "Belle here is a big fan of yours."

Belle inwardly cringed. "Oh, no, I wouldn't…"

"She plays your CD all of the time in her apartment," he interrupted her. "What was that name of that one song you liked?" he asked her, craning his head to smile evilly at her.

She didn't show it, but he could tell from the look in her eyes that she was planning on murdering him later. Instead, she turned and smiled at Graham. "_Fairytale_ is one of my favorites from your latest album."

Graham smiled back. "I'm glad you enjoy it. It was one of my favorites to write."

Belle could feel her cheeks turning red.

"Oh, how delightful!" Mal exclaimed. "You two should get to know each other!"

"What-"

"I agree," Gold chimed in, prodding Belle in front of him.

"You two start chatting while Nicholas and I get reacquainted," she smiled at Nick, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

Gold inwardly paled as Mal steered him away from the other two faster than he could blink. _Should've known that part would've backfired._

He glanced behind him a moment and saw Belle sticking her tongue out at him.

"Isabella French," Graham began once the other two were out of sight.

"Please, call me Belle," she told him.

"Okay, Belle."

She grinned, loving the way her name sounded in an Irish accent. "So, you're here to model?"

"Well, that and I'm hoping to have my music reach out to the states," he said, scratching his hairy chin.

"Oh, well, I wish you the best of luck," she replied honestly.

"So, tell me, Belle," he began, placing his hands on his hips almost like a cop about to interrogate a suspect. "What do you do for a living?"

…..

The hours dragged on, Belle wasn't sure how long it had been. Loud music started playing, and people were either dancing, talking in small groups, or making out in various corners of the room. She and Graham had to shout just to be heard.

"Do you think this is starting to get out of hand?" Graham finally asked, looking around the room with a worried expression.

Belle could feel his apprehension. "I'm sure Nick will get a handle on this soon," she assured him, glancing around for the man in question.

Her ears began ringing. She thought she was going deaf from the bass, but then she glanced to see a wall phone hanging on the wall next to her. She thought it odd the apartment phone was ringing; most people just used cellphones. The only person that ever called her on her apartment phone was the landlord-

_Oh shit_! Belle thought frantically as she took the phone off the cord. "Mrs. Lucas?" she asked through the speaker, plugging her other ear so she could hear.

"Where is Gold?!" shouted the elderly woman, Belle had to pull the phone away from her ear a moment. "You tell that man I've called the police and they're on their way to break up whatever shenanigans are going on down there!"

After that came a click and dial tone.

She put the phone back on the wall. She bit her lip nervously. She didn't want to face any police.

"Who was that?" Graham asked, shouting over the noise.

"The landlord," she replied. "She said the police are one their way."

"Police?" his eyes almost bugged out of his head. "Oh no, I can't be here for that. I could be sent back to Ireland before my visa expires."

Belle began glancing around the room again, frenzied that she couldn't spot Gold on first sight. "Come with me," she told him, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the throng of people.

She finally spotted him near the kitchen, trying to calm a drunken Mal. She was waving one of his teacups around, her beverage sloshing all about.

"And I'll tell you another thing," she heard Mal say once they were close enough. "You are too good for Regina. You need to invest your face," she squished Nick's, making his lips pucker, "into modeling."

Belle couldn't help but giggle at how irritated Gold looked. He grabbed her wrist and pried it off of his face. "Mal, I think you should-"

"Don't touch me!" she jerked her hand out of his grasp. "No man's allowed to touch me…" she trailed off, staring at what was left in her teacup. "Until I finish my drink." She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp. Then she stared off, wide-eyed and slightly swaying.

Belle knew that look well. Gary use to get the same look when he had a few too many.

"Timber!" she called out.

People that were clumped around them immediately dispersed to leave floor space, which Mal took the opportunity to collapse onto. Luckily, Belle grabbed her empty tea cup before it crashed on the floor with her. Everyone else went about their business.

"Well, my evening is going good, how about you?" Nick said sarcastically, glancing at Belle and Graham.

"Granny called," Belle informed. "She said the cops were on their way to break up this party."

He groaned, muttering swear words under his breath. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Is there any way we can get out of here before they arrive?" asked Graham.

Nick placed his hands on his hips, and let out an agitated breath. "If we go through the front door quick, we should be able to make a dash out."

Despite the loud music, they could hear the faint sound of police sirens. The three of them glanced over to see tiny red and blue lights flashing through the window. Everyone else was either too intoxicated, or too busy getting to second base to notice.

"You got a plan B?" Graham asked, arching his eyebrows at Nick.

Something clicked in Belle's mind.

"Follow me," she told them, grabbing both of their hands, and began to drag them past the crowd once more. With much difficulty, they were able to make it to the little hallway that led to Nick's room. The drunk woman who was laughing with her reflection earlier was now crying, placing her hand against the mirror.

_Nick has some very odd friends_, she said to herself.

"What exactly are you thinking?" Gold asked once they reached his bedroom.

"Two words: fire escape," she told him, opening the door.

They walked over the threshold to find Nick's room… and a couple making out against the wall.

"Ruby?" Belle asked.

The girl pulled away, a flabbergasted expression donning her face.

"Way to go, Archie," Gold gave his friend a thumbs up, for which Belle slapped him on the arm.

Archie adjusted his glasses, a blush creeping over his face. "Nick, Belle. You know Ruby, right?"

"Yes, we've met," Nick nodded. "Have you met Graham?"

"Oh no, nice to meet you," the redhead held his arm out to shake.

"You too, Archie," Graham gave him a tiny salute instead.

"Guys, police," Belle reminded them.

"Right," Nick and Gold both replied, heading towards his window where the fire escape was.

"What's going on?" Ruby asked.

"Your grandmother called the cops," Belle replied.

"Shit!" Ruby spat out, knowing Granny would kill her if the cops brought her back to her place upstairs. She turned back to Archie, slipping a white card into her pocket. "Call me," she said flirtatiously, placing a quick kiss on his lips and dashing for the window.

Archie just leaned against the wall dazed.

Nick and Graham were already leaning against the rail of the fire escape when Ruby and Belle climbed through the window. Graham helped Belle to stand when she got her leg caught. She felt him squeeze a piece of paper into the hand that wasn't clutching the tea cup.

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Belle," Ruby smiled, and began to climb down the ladder.

"Nice to meet you both," Graham said before following her down.

Belle could hear the cops inside just before she shut the bedroom window. She looked over at Gold, realizing the two were alone together for the first time that night. For some odd reason, she could hear her heartbeat ringing in her ears. Maybe it was the adrenaline from trying to avoid the cops.

"We…" Nick cleared his throat. "We should probably get off this fire escape before the cops come raiding in."

"Right…" Belle replied, wondering why her voice sounded low.

She began to climb the ladder leading to her window. "Don't you dare look up my dress," she warned him, glancing behind her.

"Not making any promises, dearie," he joked, smirking as he followed her up.

_**A/N: The next chapter will pick up where this one left off, FYI. Also, for those interested in random trivia, the actor who plays Graham (Jamie Dornan) is in a band called Sons of Jim and one of their songs is called "Fairytale" which was mentioned :)**_


	5. The Second Breakfast

_**A/N:**_**_ This chapter starts where the last one left off :) MORE BONDING! Also, I will be participating in NaNoWriMo this month, so updates won't be as quick as they usually are. No worries. I'll see this story through the end :)_**

**Chapter 5: The Second Breakfast**

Belle climbed through the window of her apartment, and Nick, being the gentleman that he is, helped by holding her hand and making sure she didn't fall. Once she had both feet on the bathroom floor, she held his hand so he could climb over. From what Belle could see of him, he seemed somewhat unimpressed. "Hmm, I was hoping that this window would lead to your room like mine."

She could tell he was joking, but that didn't stop her from blushing. She was thankful the room was dark. Nonetheless, she kept quiet as she blindly fumbled around for a light switch. The room flooded with light once she found it, showing off the small shower, toilet, and sink combo. The whole room was white with the only color coming from her blue towels and the floral shower curtain.

The police sirens could still be heard outside along with the voices of Gold's party guests being escorted out of the building. "I had a great time," Belle smiled.

"Really?" Nick asked unbelieving. "You seemed a bit uncomfortable whenever I saw you."

"Oh, I wasn't uncomfortable the _whole_ time," she defended, ignoring the little thud in her chest when he admitted to watching her. "It was nice until you could hardly move."

He nodded in agreement. "I see you brought yourself a little souvenir to remember tonight," he gestured downwards.

Confused, she glanced down to see that she was still holding his teacup. The same teacup Mal had drank out of, and Belle had taken it from her before she passed out. "Oh," she laughed, holding it up in front of her. "I didn't realize I was still holding…"

She trailed off, gasping when she saw a missing piece of glass at the rim. This must've happened while they were climbing the latter. "I'm so sorry," she frowned, regrettably holding the cup towards him so he could see the damage. "It's chipped."

Nick stared at the little cup, his expression unreadable. Belle was afraid he was going to get angry with her. It looked really expensive and she assumed it came with a matching tea set. Wordlessly, he took the cup out of her hand gently.

"You can hardly see it," she tried, but it felt pathetic coming out of her mouth.

He snorted, shaking his head and smiling. "Dearie, it's just a cup." He looked at her, the wrinkles near his eyes crinkling in amusement. "It's nothing to fuss over."

"Still, it must have cost a lot of money," she reached out for the cup, her hands brushing his as she took it from him. Again, she ignored the jolt she got from that touch. "I can at least wash it for you," she insisted as she ran a finger against the inside. It was sticky from the whiskey Mal has poured into it.

"Yell you what, for chipping my _priceless heirloom_," he said the last two words as sarcastically as possible, "You let me crash on your couch for the night."

She froze, her eyes widened at him. "…What?" she squeaked.

"I don't know whether or not the cops are still down there, and I don't feel like walking into a giant, messy apartment this late at night," Nick explained.

She nodded. "Um, okay," she opened the door that led out into the hallway. "Just make yourself comfortable, and I'll find you a pillow and blanket."

He walked towards her, stopping in the middle of the doorway to look at her. His face showed genuine gratitude. "Thank you," he said before walking down the hall.

Belle watched him a moment before heading back to her own room to find a spare blanket. This wasn't how she had expected this night to end.

She had a feeling she needed to get use to that.

…

A delectable smell filled his nostrils, making his stomach grumble and his brain demanding he wake up. Nick's first thought after opening his eyes were, _where the hell am I?_ There was a small TV sitting across from him on top of a shelf filled with pictures and movies. The walls above it were decorated with pictures and various wall hangings. One of the frames held a picture of Belle (possibly a school picture), causing his memories from last night to surface.

He had invited himself to spend the night at Belle's. What was he thinking? He didn't have too much to drink that night despite the temptation being strong (He was with Mal most of the night). He then thought about the unruly state he was positive his apartment was in, remembering he wouldn't have wanted to go back to that. Still, this was the first time he offered to stay at another woman's place without the end result being sex.

That's a new record.

He pushed himself to sit up, the floral comforter she let him borrow slipping into his lap. The first thing to appear in his field of vision was a giant bookshelf that stretched from the corner of the wall to the entrance of her hallway He wasn't surprised to find it filled to the brim with every book imaginable. From where he sat, he could see spines that read _Harry Potter_, _Jane Eyre_, _Grimm's Fairytales_, and saw various authors from Nora Roberts to Nicholas Sparks. This was more impressive than his bookshelf. Maybe she'd let him borrow some books.

"Good morning!"

Nick turned around to face the kitchen behind him. Belle stood there, smiling at him and scraping bacon onto a plate. Her hair was curly again, he noticed, and pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing blue jeans and a Packers t-shirt. In his eyes, she still looked beautiful; more relaxed as opposed to last night.

"Morning," he grunted as he pushed himself off of the couch, stepping over his jacket, tie, and shoes he had discarded before going to bed.

"How did you sleep?"

"Um, no better than usual," he replied as he sat on a stool. The kitchen island was littered with food. There was bacon, fried eggs, hash browns, sausage, biscuits, and jam. The collective smell was enough to make his stomach ache. "You made breakfast."

"I did," she nodded while turning the stove off and removing a tea kettle. "I thought I should be hospitable and all. Do you want Earl Grey or Irish Breakfast?" she asked holding up two tea boxes.

He pointed at the Earl Grey and she set about placing the tea bags into two different cups. He noted, with amusement, that one of the cups was his tea cup that she chipped last night.

"Help yourself," she told him, gesturing towards two empty plates and some silverware.

He grabbed one of the plates and started piling it with bacon and sausage. "Do you cook like this every morning?"

"Only when I have company," she admitted. "Most mornings I just get by with toast and coffee. Do you want sugar?"

"Just one lump," he replied, biting into a slice of bacon. "Toast and coffee? I'd hate to see what happens when you have a family and have to feed them every morning."

Belle laughed while stirring their tea. "I don't think that will be happening anytime soon."

"Well, not _right_ now," he retorted. "First you need to find somebody."

"I know that," she placed the chipped cup in front of him. "What I meant was I don't see myself finding anybody at the moment."

"Ah," he nodded, blowing on his tea. "Taking a break from us men?"

"Something like that," she agreed. "I just got out of a relationship."

"Someone you left behind in Nevada?" he asked taking a sip of his tea.

"We were engaged."

He almost choked on his drink; he set the cup down on the counter and tried to clear his throat.

"Are you okay?" Belle asked concerned. "Do you need water?"

"No, I'm fine," Nick wheezed out. He cleared his throat again, and waited a moment before speaking again. "Engaged?"

She bit her lip, glancing away a moment. "His name was Gary."

There was an awkward silence between them as Belle reached over to grab the other empty plate and fill it with food. Nick didn't really know what to say. He wasn't exactly surprised to hear she was engaged; she was gorgeous enough to land any man she wanted. He was… Well, he didn't really know what he was feeling.

"So, what happened?" he dared to ask.

"We started dating when we were seniors in school," she admitted, taking a small bite of her eggs. "He was on the football team. My father was really proud when he asked me out."

Nick sensed her unease when she mentioned her father, and he knew there was more to it than her just missing him. "Proud of you, or proud of _him_?"

Belle was silent a moment. She looked at him, a quiet understanding passing between them. "I guess…" she started to say, and shook her head. "He did seem happier at us being engaged than when I told him about my book."

"He'd rather you be a housewife than a writer," he replied, doing his best to mask his bitter tone. "Very old-fashion."

Belle just laughed. "I think that's why I agreed to marry him; to make my father happy."

"But you didn't," he reminded her.

She nodded. "After he passed away, I was left with his failing flower shop. We called it _Game of Thorns_."

"Like the book?" he cocked her eyebrow at her, grinning mischievously.

She giggled. "It was my idea." _Of course_, he added for her silently. "Gary didn't get it. He was very superficial. He didn't understand the point of reading something without pictures in it. Once, I got him a pop-up book as a Christmas gift."

Nick couldn't help but bark a laugh at that. "Oh, I bet that pissed him off."

"He was _furious_!" she confirmed trying to hold back her giggles. "Anyway," she went back to her story once she was recovered. "In the last two months, I realized there was a hole in my life I didn't know how to fill. Gary tried to help as much as he could, but I realized the spark wasn't there. I realized I didn't love him."

"And that's why you moved to New York," he realized. "You wanted to get away from him."

"From that town," she corrected. "I left because I wanted to help my writing, just as I've mentioned before."

"But Gary was holding you back," he tried again. "He had the same expectations as your father did."

She sighed, taking the opportunity to sip at her own tea. "I was thankful for Mary Margaret's phone call," she said slowly almost not wanting to admit it. "When I told him I was leaving, he naturally got angry about it. I felt kind of sorry for him."

"Don't be," he told her quickly, catching them both by surprise. When she didn't say anything, he continued. "You weren't happy. There was no point in you being in the relationship if you didn't love him."

"But it wasn't fair of me to drag him along like I did," she told him. "…It doesn't matter, I guess. The past is the past. He'll move on and find somebody else."

She stopped talking and went back to her meal.

It was quiet like that for a while; both of them silently eating their breakfast. Nick was afraid to say anything; afraid he had upset her by asking about her ex-fiancé. Or was it because of his comments about Gary? He didn't blame her if it was the latter. He never met the man, and here he was making accusations.

Nick's plate was scraped clean by the time he decided to speak again. "I noticed you had quite the collection of books," he jerked a thumb towards the bookshelf behind him.

"I've done a lot of collecting over the years," she smiled sheepishly, their conversation from before far behind them.

"Do you mind if I…"

"Go right ahead," she encouraged.

He got up from his stool and walked over to the bookcase. He could see more authors now that he was closer than before. He found George R.R. Martin's _A Song of Ice and Fire_ series just as he thought he would. She also had _The Chronicles of Narnia_, _The Lord of the Rings_, and even _The Hunger Games_ trilogy. He secretly wondered how she could cram so many books in here. "Is there anything you _don't_ have in this shelf?" he asked, half serious and half joking.

"I have no Stephenie Meyer or James Patterson," she told him once she was by his side.

He jumped a little in surprise. He didn't think she followed him. He looked her way, her blue eyes shining at him. His stomach knotted from the sight of her… Or was that his breakfast? "I didn't think you would," he said in answer to her comment.

"You're welcome to borrow whatever you like," she explained, then held a finger up, "so long as you take very good care of them."

"I'll definitely have to do that," he said just as the clock on the wall started chiming. He looked to see that it was ten o'clock. He thought of his apartment downstairs in possible disarray from the night before. "I should probably head back. I have a lot of cleaning to do."

"Oh, I see," she looked away a moment, trying to hide her reaction. "You're welcome to come back up when you're done."

Nick smiled at her. "I'd like that." He walked around her so he could sit down and put his shoes back on. He grabbed his jacket and tie, slung them over his shoulder, and headed for the door. He stopped, his hand on the knob when something else came to mind. "You know, the cops or Granny probably locked the door to my apartment downstairs, and I don't have my key…" he trailed off, daring a pathetic glance towards Belle.

She just smiled, jerking a thumb towards the hallway. "Through the bathroom." He nodded, walking past her into the bathroom. He was about to open the window when he heard her voice call out, "I enjoyed having breakfast with you. We should do it more often."

He paused a moment, considering the offer. He remembered that this was the second time they had had breakfast together, and both times it was nice (Despite the latter having a moment of awkward silence). Maybe it wouldn't be bad to start waking up early to have breakfast with his neighbor, he thought. He'd get more done during the day that way.

He turned his head to face the doorway. She wasn't there; he knew she was standing at the end of the hallway where he left her. "Tomorrow morning," he called, opened the window, and stepped out onto the fire escape.

…..

Belle smiled in spite of herself; leaning against the wall next to her bookshelf. They were going to have breakfast again. She couldn't wait until the next morning. She loved being around him. Aside from Jefferson, she felt he was the only man she could really talk to. She needed some more guy friends.

She walked back to the kitchen to start cleaning the dishes. She noticed he left his chipped cup behind. She frowned as she picked it up, staring at the chip. She had hoped she didn't make him upset by serving him the cup she damaged. _He didn't seem upset or mention anything about it_, she mused. Nonetheless, she would have to wash it again and remember to give it back to him.

She stared at the chip a moment. It didn't look that bad. One could hardly notice it if they weren't paying attention. She had a funny image of him drinking out of this cup everyday as if it were his favorite. She shook it away quickly, scolding herself for thinking such girlish fantasies.

It didn't work.

She thought about it again as she was cleaning the dishes when a phrase came to mind…

_Nicholas Gold; Mr. Gold he preferred everyone call him. There wasn't much known about him. He was a peculiar man who kept to himself. He was handsome, no doubt about that. However, he was far too intimidating to approach in public. He would stop by his favorite coffee shop every day and leave to do only God knows what for the rest of the day. He never drank out of the cups at the shop, instead insisting on drinking out of his teacup. This struck anyone who saw him as odd, especially since the cup he drank out of had a chip in it. Surely someone as refined as he would never bother to drink out of a broken cup…_

"Oh!" she exclaimed, dropping the plate she was washing into the sink and turning off the faucet. She dashed to her bedroom and grabbed a pen and a blank notebook. She began to start scribbling her new story idea.

_**A/N: Hope you all liked it! Thanks again for everyone's lovely reviews and encouragement. Also for any of you in the midst of Hurricane Sandy or Frankenstorm, you all are in my thoughts and prayers. Please stay safe!**_


	6. Moon River

**_A/N: __Hello all! Luckily I was able to churn out another chapter in this busy month. NaNoWriMo is going very well :) I hope you all enjoy this chapter!_**

**_DISCLAIMER: I do not own the songs mentioned in this chapter._**

**Chapter 6: Moon River**

Since that second breakfast, two weeks had gone by. Nick and Belle had kept to their word to have breakfast every morning. There were a couple of mornings where they didn't have it due to other obligations involving work or sleep. This did less to deter them, however.

Belle had told him she was getting inspiration for her next novel. He was thrilled for her, of course, but she refused to tell him the whole plot. She told him she didn't want to jinx it by talking to other people about it, afraid the idea would eventually come to nothing. The real reason was because she wasn't sure how he'd react to her writing a book with the main character based off of him.

He probably wouldn't get it at first. After she wrote down that first paragraph, she started changing names and other things around. Mr. Gold was now Mr. Silver, and he worked in a shady pawn shop. She didn't change the chipped cup; she thought it was a nice touch.

Nick had been scheduled for more auditions thanks to Regina. He stayed out of his apartment most of the time and was only ever in his room to eat, sleep, or have breakfast with Belle.

Sometimes they flip-flopped where the morning meal would be held. It was mostly spent at Belle's apartment due to Nick's insistence that she was the better cook; also her place smelled nicer, but he'd never admit it out loud. They would borrow books from each other, and discuss them during their meetings.

Whenever the topic got personal, it was mostly Belle whose past was brought up more than Nick's. This made her wonder what he was working hard on trying to keep secret. She could understand if he had a rough childhood and didn't want to talk about it, but why wouldn't he want to talk to her about it? Weren't they friends? She would quickly berate herself for thinking that. _Whatever he's going through is his business. If he wants to tell you, he will tell you in his own time. _She would then shove her questions to the back of her mind, and continue on with the world around her.

They had a nice routine going, but how long would it last?

…

Belle had slept in late that Wednesday morning. She didn't feel like going out at all that day seeing as the weather was a tad bit chilly. Mary Margaret had called when she woke up, and Belle invited her to her apartment for tea so they could talk more about her new novel. Mary had read a few excerpts of what she written, and had loved it so far. They were going to spend some time discussing what more they could add to give the story some depth.

"I think it has the opportunity to be a funny story," Belle had told her over the phone.

"I don't know, Belle," she replied doubtfully. "To me, Mr. Silver seems like a tragic sort of character. This could be a story that'll break hearts."

She inwardly cringed at that. "I'm not sure. I don't want to make people cry."

"It's okay," Mary assured. "People love sad novels… in a sick, twisted sort of way."

After their conversation, Belle showered and brushed her teeth before slipping into a long sleeved white shirt and an oversized brown knitted sweater. A pair of forest green yoga pants completed her stylish ensemble. She turned her laptop on and began working on her story.

She typed up what she could by noon. She stared at the laptop most of the time, trying to find the links in the missing chain that was her story. Even though she couldn't think of any more ideas until Mary Margaret arrived, she was at least thankful that she was able to get an idea in the first place.

She got up from her chair, deciding to take a writing break, and headed for the bathroom. After finishing business, she was washing her hands when she heard the sound of a guitar playing. _That's odd_, she thought. She didn't remember turning the radio on. She then realized it was coming from the window. She took a few steps forward and pushed the window open. A cold breeze blew through, making her spine tingle. The guitar sounds got louder. It wasn't a particular tune. It was only mindless strumming.

She glanced over the fire escape and saw Nick sitting on the ledge of his window below. He was the one strumming the guitar. His hair was a bit unruly, and she could get a glimpse of a five o'clock shadow. He wore a tight tan sweater and blue jeans. She watched him strum for a bit, eventually, he started playing an actual tune.

"_Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up? Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?"_ he sang. Belle thought he had a nice enough voice. It was very folksy. "_Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?_"

"_I'll show you mine if you show me yours first. Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse_

_Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words_," he continued as Belle climbed through the window to lean over and watch him play.

"_We live on front porches and swing life away. We get by just fine here on minimum wage. If love is a labor I'll slave till the end. I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand…_" ne strummed a few more chords before slowing down the song and ending it.

Belle applauded him.

Surprised, Nick looked up to see her smiling face. He couldn't help but smile back. "Hey."

"Hey," she greeted in return.

"How long have you been up there?" he asked feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Long enough," she teased. "I didn't know you played guitar."

"I use to play a lot when I was in school," he admitted. "Now I just take it out every so often and play so I don't forget how."

She nodded. A chill blew over and she hugged herself. "How can you stand sitting out in the cold?"

He scoffed at her. "It's only fifty degrees. Scotland's colder than this at this time."

"We're not in Scotland though," she reminded him. "How about you come up here where it's warm and serenade me?" She said the last part in a flirty manner.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me."

Belle snorted. "Oh please. I couldn't seduce Casanova."

"You shouldn't doubt yourself in that way," he told her seriously. "Besides, that Graham fellow seemed smitten with you at the party a few weeks ago. Did you ever call him?"

Belle tried to feign surprise. "I'm sorry?"

Nick smirked knowingly. "I'm not new to the dating game, dearie. I know a phone number slip when I see one."

Belle blushed, remembering Graham slipping the note to her just before he left the party. She'd sent him a text message saying hi so he would have her number if he ever wanted to talk. She felt too intimidated to actually call him. "We're just friends," she told him.

"Alright," he replied, but she could tell he didn't believe her.

"You going to come up here or not?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "If you insist." He then stood up, readjusted the strap so the guitar was slung across his back, and began climbing up the ladder. Once he made it to the top, Belle helped him through the window and they settled into her living room.

"Would you like me to make some coffee? Or tea?" she asked.

"Some tea would be nice, thank you."

She walked into the kitchen and started getting the tea ready. She found some Scottish breakfast tea at the market the other day. She thought he would like that. Once she got the water boiling, she went back to the living room. She stopped midway between their and the kitchen.

She had left her laptop open on her novel, and Gold was looking at it.

"Nick?" she asked nervously.

He looked up, and took a quick step back like a kid caught stealing cookies before dinner. "I was just curious," he apologized. "Is this the novel you were telling me about?"

She bit her lip as she walked over to her laptop and saved her document before closing it. "It's not perfect yet," she excused. "It's still missing something."

"You know," he began hesitantly; "I could always read it over for you. I'm not much of a critic, but I hear it's good to have opinions from a reader's point of view."

She glanced up at him. He looked sincere, she noted. "I'll keep that in mind," was her reply. It wasn't a yes, but neither a no. She knew he was going to end up reading it one day. "So, do you take requests?" she gestured to the guitar still strapped to his back.

"Depends," Nick began as he readjusted the strap on his guitar, "on whether or not I know the song."

"Okay," she mused. He sat down on the couch with the guitar in his lap. She walked over and sat at the end going him enough room to play. "There was this one song my mother use to sing to me when I was little. Have you ever heard of _Moon River_?"

He twitched his nose in thought. "I think I do. How does it go?"

"Something like…" she hesitated, trying to think of the beginning notes. She made a few hand motions while trying to hum the melody. He smiled at her. "What?"

"Nothing," he defended playfully. "I'm just… trying not to laugh at you."

"Ugh," she scoffed, lightly slapping him on the shoulder. "Excuse me for not being musically inclined."

"Fine, you're excused," he winked and stuck his tongue out at her. He stopped her from slapping him again. "Okay, okay. I think I can play it, hold on." He pulled the guitar pick out of his pocket and tried strumming the chords. "Like this?"

"Yeah, it's close," she confirmed. "I think the same melody is repeated."

"Okay," he poised himself ready to play. "You ready?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't know the words," he admitted. "You'll have to sing them for me."

Belle's eyes widened. "Oh, no," she tried to argue. "You don't want to hear me sing."

He looked at her confused. "I never said that."

"I know, but…"

"It's okay," he assured her. "We're not performing at Madison Square Gardens. Just relax and have a little fun."

Nick started strumming the chords again. He played the melody about six times when he realized she wasn't singing. He glanced up at her nervous face. "How long is the intro?"

"Sorry, it's just…" she trailed off. "I can only sing when I'm by myself."

He understood. He wasn't very fond of his own voice. "How about," he suggested, "you close your eyes. Try to imagine yourself in a faraway place where no one can hear you."

She wasn't sure it would work, but she closed her eyes anyway. Doing his best not to talk or say any words, he began to play the chords again. He watched her shoulders lower releasing the tension, the frown lines on her face smoothed out just as she started to sing.

"_Moon River__…__ wider than a mile__…__ I'm crossing you in style__…__ someday_," she sang, soft and smooth. "_Oh dream maker… you heartbreaker__….__ Wherever you're going__…__ I'm going your way_."

Gold stared at her, his hands on autopilot as they replayed the chords over again. Her voice was low, but it was very hypnotic.

"_Two drifters__…__ off to see the world. There's such a lot of world to see__….__ We're after the same__…__ rainbow's end__…__ Waiting 'round the bend__…_" she paused a moment, her lips quirked up into a smile. "_My huckleberry friend, Moon River__…__ and me__…_"

He let the music slowly trail off. Her eyes opened slowly, and he was the first thing she saw. His eyes looked almost lost, his mouth slightly open. Belle's face mirrored his expression, but she didn't realize it. She looked into his brown eyes, and the once chilly room was starting to feel warm. Nick felt if he tried, he couldn't look away from her, like a moth to a flame…

The spell was broken by the sound of the screeching tea kettle. She turned away, walking over to turn the stove off and prepare their tea.

"You played very well," she forced herself to say, trying to dissuade the redness that was spreading on her cheeks.

"Thank you," Nick nodded as she handed him his cup of tea. Belle always gave him the chipped tea cup whenever they had tea at her place. He always kept forgetting to take it back with him to his apartment. "You're mother use to sing this song to you?" he brought up.

She nodded. "When I was little, she sang it to me when I couldn't fall asleep. It always comforted me whenever I would hear it, even after she left." She shrugged at the last statement.

"Why did she leave?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean, I don't think you ever told me…"

"It's fine," she assured. "She loved my father, but she realized that she was still in love with her first husband; Jefferson's dad." She paused to take a sip of her tea. "We haven't talked much since I graduated school. I guess I'm still bitter about it."

"I can't say I blame you," he said honestly. "Divorce usually causes rifts between a child and one of their parents."

"Were your parents divorced?" she asked without a second thought.

He went silent. She could sense from the tension he was radiating that he was trying to find a way to avoid the question.

"You know," she began, "I talk an awful lot about myself. You know more about me and my life than I know about you."

"I was born and raised in Scotland, and I moved to America to become an actor," he said rather quickly. "What else is there to know?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Who was your best friend growing up? Your dreams you had as a kid? Nick, we've been friends for two weeks, and I've told you enough about my life to write a tell-all book about me. Can't I at least know more about you?"

A knock sounded on her apartment door. "I better be going," Nick said as he got up rather quickly, grabbing his guitar and walking to the bathroom.

"Wait," she went after him. They stopped at the window. "You don't have to leave. It's just my agent."

His expression was unreadable, but Belle could sense that he felt uncomfortable. "No, I have things I need to get done today. Thanks for the tea," he said as he climbed out the window and left her staring after him as disappeared down the ladder.

_Way to go, French_, she kicked herself. She knew she shouldn't have pushed him.

Another knock sounded, reminding Belle she had to answer the door. She closed the window and left the bathroom.

When she opened the door, Mary Margaret stepped over the threshold, all bundled up in a white sweater and matching hat. "Hello, Belle," she greeted. "I hope you have some goodies for me to read."

Belle forced a smile. "Of course. Have a seat while I pour some tea."

Mary Margaret took the next available chair and sat herself down. Belle walked back to her previous seat to grab her mug thinking she could use a refill. She froze for a moment, noticing Nick's chipped cup still sat on the table untouched. She held back a sigh so as not to upset Mary. She grabbed the tea cup and brought it back to the kitchen with her, pouring the tea from it into a different mug for her agent.

She only hoped Gold wouldn't stay angry with her for long.

…..

The next morning, Belle woke up to have breakfast by herself. She didn't from Nick that whole morning, nor has he tried to make any contact with her.

Her meeting with Mary Margaret the previous day went well. She liked what she had written that morning, and went with her suggestion that she try to find a way to turn this story into a heartbreaker (much to her chagrin). There was one idea that Mary kept throwing into the arena that Belle wasn't so sure about: Mr. Silver, in Mary's opinion, needed a love interest.

She had told her she'd think about it, but she didn't think she could bring herself to write a love story. The only romantic experience she had was with Gary, and that was the farthest thing from love she could think of. To add to it, Mr. Silver was based off of Nick, and the only woman she could see him dating was Regina…

That would be a hard character to make likeable.

It was ten in the morning when she realized her refrigerator was empty. She put on a pair of blue jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and her blue button up jacket for her trip to the grocery store. Once she got to the lobby, she noticed somebody pacing a small corner of the room looking a bit frustrated.

She hadn't seen this person before. He looked a bit young; fresh out of college young. He had fluffy black hair, his skin was slightly pale, and he was rather skinny. He was wearing a brown sweater with khaki pants. Belle wasn't sure to make of him. She did her best to ignore him, trying to walk out of the building without being noticed.

Her hand was in the door handle when a voice behind her said, "Excuse me."

Belle turned to see the young man standing a few feet in front of her. "Can I help you?" she asked politely.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," he said sheepishly. That's when she noticed his accent was slightly different. "I… kind of need someone to talk to, but I'm not familiar with this place."

Belle nodded in understanding, deciding this person didn't mean her any harm. "Okay, what do you need to talk about?"

"I'm looking for someone," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper.

He handed it to her. She unfolded it to see it was a photo. There was a picture of a grown man standing in front of a large lake surrounded by green fields. She closer at the smiling man in the photo.

"You know Nicholas Gold?" she asked rather shocked.

He younger man groaned. "Figures he'd change his name."

Belle looked at his face. The first thing she noticed were his brown eyes. She froze, knowing full well who this person was before he spoke.

"My name is Bailey Spinner," he held his hand out to her. "The man in the photo is my father."

_**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed! For anyone interested, the songs on this chapter are "Swing Life Away" by Rise Against and "Moon River" which is from a certain movie *wink wink nudge nudge***_


	7. Honesty is the Best Policy

_**A/N: Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving for my American followers. My non-american followers, I hope you had a great day anyway :) I love you all. Also, for those of you who haven't read it yet, I posted a special "Breakfast & Books" short story called "There's Gotta Be More to Life" on here. Read it when you get the chance :)**_

**Chapter 7: Honest is the Best Policy**

It shouldn't have surprised her that he had a son. Nick Gold was old enough to have children that were Bailey's age. Still, she stood there, her jaw hanging down as she stared at the young man in front of him.

"I guess he doesn't talk about me much," he mused, grinning at her stunned face.

Belle closed her mouth, feeling slightly stupid, and shook her head. "Sorry, he's never mentioned you to me."

Bailey only shrugged and asked, "How long have you known him?"

"Just only a couple of weeks," she answered honestly. There was a bit of an awkward silence. She stood there fidgeting with her handbag while just scratched the back of his head, pocketing his picture. Something popped into her mind, and she felt compelled to ask, "You said Nick Gold wasn't his real name?"

"Back in Scotland, he was Rumford Spinner," he replied.

_Rumford?!_ She bit her lip trying not to laugh. She thought it was a nice name, she just didn't expect for it to be _his_ name. "I see," was her reply to Bailey. "And does your father know that you're here?"

He shook his head. "I haven't talked to him in two years. All I knew was that he was leaving for New York City." He shrugged. "We… kind of got into a bit of a fight and haven't talked much since."

Belle only nodded. "I'm sorry." She glanced up the stairs where she was sure Gold was. A part of her wanted to ask his son more about Nick/Rumford, what he would never tell her. Instead, she smiled and replied, "Follow me."

…

Nick woke up later than he wanted to. He would've liked to wake up to a nice hot breakfast, but he was too lazy to make it himself. He settled for toast and tea once he dragged himself out of bed.

He hadn't bothered to contact Belle since their last meeting. He was being stubborn, and he knew it. When he got home after hanging out in her apartment, he spent most of it arguing with himself. At first, he was cursing her for being so nosy about his life when it was none of her business in the first place. Then his conscience reminded him of all the personal things he had asked her and called himself a hypocrite.

In his mind, the difference between him and Belle was that Belle was someone worth knowing everything about; he wasn't.

He eventually stopped talking to himself before he got crazy and spent the rest of the evening distracting himself, trying not to think about Belle. When he woke up, she was all he could think about. What was wrong with him? He shouldn't have to feel guilty about not being open with her. So why was he?

After his small breakfast, he resigned to re-reading a book from his shelf instead of the one he borrowed from Belle. With the way he acted, he wouldn't be surprised if she never talked to him again.

There was a knock on his door. Nick put the book down on the table and pulled himself off the couch to answer it.

Just as fate would have it, Belle was on the other side.

"Hey," was all that came out of his mouth.

"Hi," was her simple reply. She seemed hesitant about something, but he wasn't sure why. Although he had a feeling it had something to do with their last meeting. He kicked himself, knowing he couldn't stay mad at her. He realized then that he didn't want to lose her as a friend over something silly like this.

"Um," he began hesitantly, "I'm sorry about what had happened the other day, brushing you off like that." He paused to clear his throat. "You were right."

"About?" she asked, somewhat thrown off.

"You were completely honest and willing to answer any personal questions I asked," he explained, shoving his fist into his pockets. "I guess it's only fair I be more open and honest with you."

"That would be helpful," she agreed and then added with a smirk, "Rumford."

He looked up at her suddenly. He must've looked very surprised because her lips were sucked between her teeth in an attempt not to giggle.

That or she was amused by his real name.

"How did you…" he trailed off. There were only a few select people who knew his real name, and none of them lived in the United States. He froze, realizing there was only one person who would fly over the Atlantic to see him.

"Where is he?" he sputtered, excited and afraid at the same time.

"Papa?" a familiar voice asked.

Belle stood aside as Nick stepped out of his apartment. His breath caught in his throat when he saw his son Bae at the end of the hallway. He was speechless. All he could do was stand there amazed. He wanted to run over and hug him, but his inner guilt held him back.

Bae took the initiative, walking over to stand just a few feet in front of his father.

"Hi, Bae," Nick finally had the nerve to say.

"Hi," he greeted back, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you two alone to catch up," Belle added. He had almost forgotten she was still there. "It was nice to meet you, Bailey," she held his hand out to him.

"You too, Belle," Bae nodded, shaking her hand before she walked down the stairs.

There was another awkward silence. Nick felt out of place. It had been two years since he last talked to his son. He hadn't changed much; still refusing to get a haircut. He did seem a bit more mature than he used to be. Then again, he was always the smarter and wiser young despite his age.

"So, are you going to invite me in?" Bae asked, gesturing toward the door.

"Oh, yes, of course," Nick shook his head a moment to clear the haze. He walked back to his apartment as his son followed. "So, I take it you're well and all?" he asked, shutting the door behind them.

"Yeah," Bae nodded. "Things have been good."

"Good," Nick agreed, hovering by the door a moment before walking towards the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Um, sure. Some water would be good."

Nick silently thanked the good Lord for something to do rather standing in dead space trying to start a conversation. He grabbed two clear cups from the cabinet, filling them both with water from the faucet. "So, how's your mum?" he asked once he handed him his glass.

"She's doing great," he replied. "She's running the pub with Killian."

"She's still with him, eh?" Nick cocked his eyebrow.

Bae took a drink of his water, eyeing his father suspiciously. "You sound surprised by this."

"Well," he shrugged. "You know her. She's never one to stay in one place for too long."

"She's happy, I think," his son commented as he sat down at the bar. "Maybe she's finally done with moving around."

Nick occupied the seat next to him. "I hope so for your sake."

"Well, it doesn't really affect me anymore if she decides to move or not."

"Oh, that's right. You're a college man now," he playfully nudged in the ribs with his elbow. Bae pushed him away. "How's university going?"

"It's going great," he grinned. "I graduate in the spring, and I think I'll have a job at the broadcasting stations where I interned last year."

"That's great, son," Nick beamed, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm really proud of you."

"Proud enough to come to my graduation?" he asked, his face turning serious.

Nick bit his lip, pausing a moment to sip at his own water. He could tell Bae wasn't looking for any simple answers. They needed to talk, and they couldn't hold it off any longer. "You're still mad about me leaving." It wasn't a question.

"Well aren't you a mind reader," he said sarcastically. "Dad, you didn't even give it much thought. You just left the country with only a note and no word from you for two years."

"I sent you a birthday card last year," Nick defended uselessly.

"Thank God for that," he scoffed. "I wouldn't have found your apartment otherwise. At least you don't move around as much." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Why couldn't you just stay in Scotland? I thought things were going great for you."

"Things aren't always what they seem, Bae," he said pointedly. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I wasn't happy with the way everything was turning out."

"Then why not just tell me that?" Bae argued. "You could've talked about it instead of our last time being together was us arguing."

Nick looked away, remembering their last time together very well. "I didn't want to leave on that note, Bae. You know I don't like fighting with you. I acted on impulse when I left. To be honest," he paused to catch his breath, "I thought you'd be better off if I wasn't around."

He hesitantly looked back at his son, his brown eyes a little bit wider with surprise and concern. "Do you really think that?"

"Well," Nick began, but Bae stopped him.

"Dad, I don't care about what mistakes you think you've made," he told him boldly. "You've always done right by me. You were always there for me more than mum was. All I wanted was for you to be honest with me."

Nick's heart melted from his caring words. He was thankful for having a son with such a good heart. He was usually the one to call bullshit whenever he knew his father was trying to hide things from him. Touched by his kindness, Nick could feel his eyes start to water. He shook his head a little to clear it away even though he knew Bae could see. "I really hope you didn't come all this way just to try and make your old man feel guilty," he joked.

"Actually," Bae responded, looking a little nervous. "I have some news for you."

Nick tilted his head forward, ready to hear what he has to say.

"You see," he began hesitantly, "I've met someone."

"Oh, have you now," Nick couldn't help but grin.

"Her name is Moraine," Bae grinned sheepishly. "We're getting married next month."

Nick almost fell off his seat in shock. "That's wonderful," he beamed. "What's she like? How did you meet?"

"She's studying psychology at the same school as I am. We had the same World History course a year and a half ago."

"I see," he nodded. "And you're getting married _next_ month?"

"In the middle of November," he confirmed. "I want you to be there."

Nick nodded. "I wouldn't miss it."

Bae smiled, then stood up from his stool and hugged his father. "I missed you," he told him.

"I missed you too, Bae," he replied, letting the tears he held back earlier to fall.

…

"He has a son?!" Jefferson's eyes boggled.

"He's forty-six," Belle added, thinking he was overreacting. "Of course he has a son."

"I'm not saying it's impossible for him to have a son," he said. "I'm shocked he never told you."

"I'm shocked too, but it's none of my business," she stepped away from the laptop a moment to get something to drink.

"_None of your business_?!" his voice echoed through the room. "I thought you said he was your friend."

"He is my friend," she replied as she closed the refrigerator, returning to her seat with a bottled root beer.

"Sister, you have an odd definition of friendship," Jefferson remarked. "Seriously, he could've at least mentioned he had some offspring to you instead of you finding him on your doorstep."

"He wasn't on my doorstep," Belle face palmed. Why did she have to tell her brother about all of this?

"Doorstep, hallway, whatever," he rolled his eyes. "All I'm saying is if you want to keep him as a friend, you need to tell him that it's give and take and not just you giving everything."

"I don't _give_ everything," she argued. "We talk about things, laugh, and have fun. Plus, he told me just before he saw his son that he was going to be more honest with me."

The look he was giving her made her feel idiotic. "Honey, there is a difference between saying you'll be honest and actually _being_ honest."

Belle bit her lip, glancing away from the screen of the laptop. She knew Jefferson had a point, but they had only been friends for a short time. She wanted him to tell her everything, but she wanted him to do it in his own time. "He'll tell me when he wants too," she said aloud for him.

"Well he better do it soon if you expect to have my blessing," he told her pointedly.

Belle glanced back at the screen perplexed. "What blessing?"

He cocked his eyebrow at her. "Belle, sweetie, I'm not stupid. It's obvious you like him."

She sat up straight; her jaw fell appalled at his accusation. "I do not!"

"Let's see," he grinned, holding his hand up. He stuck up one finger and said, "You both have breakfast every morning." He pointed a second finger up. "You borrow each other's books." Third finger. "You talk about him every chance you get-"

"Not every chance-"

"I'm not finished," he stopped her, holding up four fingers now. "You both sometimes enter through each other's windows, and…" he stuck his thumb out. "The book you are writing is about him."

"It is not!" she defended, feeling her cheeks burn and hoped they weren't showing on her face.

"Mr. Gold and Mr. Silver," he gave her a derisive look. "Not that hard to figure out. Face baby sister, you are smitten."

"I am not," she crossed her arms over her chest. "It's possible for me to be friendly with someone and not to have a romantic relationship with."

"I never said it was impossible," he held his hands up defensively. "I'm saying that's not the case with you and Nick."

She couldn't think of anything to say. She wanted to tell him he hadn't even met Nick yet, but a knock sounded on the door.

"I bet that's him now," he gave a lopsided grin after hearing the knock.

Belle just shook her head. It was probably Granny asking for the rent or Ruby stopping by with the movies she wanted to borrow from her. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," she told him.

They both said their goodbyes and Belle closed her laptop. She got up to answer the door, but when she opened it, no one was on the other side. She rolled her eyes annoyed. She would tear anybody who tried to interrupt her time with her brother with ding-dong ditch. Before she could scour the halls, the knock sounded again, only not by the front door; the bathroom door.

Belle turned towards the hallway, glancing at the laptop bitterly. "I'm not telling Jeff about this," she muttered, knowing full well who was knocking on her bathroom door. She closed her front door before heading to the bathroom. She opened it to see Nick Gold standing by the sink, leaning against it trying to catch his breath.

"I'm glad yet concerned that you don't lock your window," he wheezed out.

Belle shrugged. "It's too cold outside for burglars to want to sneak through a window that's four stories up."

"Touché," he agreed. "Is it okay for me to stay around for a bit?"

"Where's Bailey?"

"He went to bed early," he replied, glancing at the window that showed the dark sky. "He's still a bit jet lagged. We're going to be walking around New York City tomorrow and he'll be heading back to Glasgow the next morning."

"That'll be good," she nodded. "I'm sure you two have a lot of catching up to do."

He nodded back, pushing himself away from the sink. "He's not the only one I need to make peace with."

She looked at him curiously.

He continued when she said nothing. "Earlier I said I would be more open with you, and I intend to make good on that promise. Do you have a minute?"

She wordlessly stepped away for him to follow her into the living room. He quickly sat down in his usual spot on the couch and she went to the fridge and grabbed him a drink. "How is Bailey?" she asked once she gave him the drink.

"He's doing good," he replied, unscrewing the cap on his beverage. "He's getting married next month."

"That's great," she smiled. "I assume you'll be flying back for the wedding?"

"He came all this way just to ask me," he answered. He took a sip of his drink then began talking. "I'm sorry I never told you about him."

"I'm sure you had your reasons," she tried to wave off.

"That's the thing," he insisted. "There wasn't a reason for it. I was trying to pretend that he didn't exist when I was around you, and I shouldn't have."

"Why is that?" she asked.

He looked away for a moment, trying to think where he should start. Without looking back at her, he began, "I was too much of a coward back home. When Bae was younger, his mother left me. We were living on the outskirts of Glasgow, and she got a better job in a bigger city. I didn't want to leave, so she left me and Bae." He looked back at her. "I spent most of his childhood working odd jobs, trying to get us by; most of the time he lived with his mother when I didn't have enough money to support him. I made a lot of mistakes in that time, gambled a lot of money away trying to get more… I was stuck."

"What happened?"

"I eventually lost the ability to see my son," he replied, sadness in his eyes. "After a few months of self-loathing, I tried to get back on my feet, and found work helping to build sets at a community theatre."

"And that's how you got into acting," she confirmed.

"Acting was only a side job," Nick admitted. "Most of my money was made in set building. I was allowed to see my son once Milah, my ex-wife, saw that I was doing better. I spent a few years with the community theatre, but it wasn't enough. I hit rock bottom one night, drank a little too much at the pub, and got arrested for getting into a fight. Bae bailed me out," he paused again, glancing away once more. "We got into a fight afterwards… The wrong words were said, and I left him standing in the middle of the street. That was last I saw of him for two years."

Belle didn't ask him what "wrong words" were said. She probably didn't want to know, and she could see he regretted it. The room was silent for a while. It was comfortable, the tension leaving the air.

He was finally able to continue. "Shortly after that fight, one of the actors told me about some auditions that they were holding in New York City, and told me that I should go for it. I didn't give the whole idea much thought only that I wanted to get as far away from Glasgow as possible. I moved here, met Archie, he introduced me to Regina, and here I am now…" he stopped, taking another sip of root beer.

Not knowing what else to do, she wrapped a free arm around his shoulders and rested her head against it. It was her way of saying thank you without actually saying it. Before she knew it, he had set his drink down, and shifted in his seat so he could wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. This caught her off guard, but she managed to wrap her other arm around his waist.

They were like that for a while, hugging each other in easy silence, neither one of them wanting to let go. Nick had a spicy, musk scent that comforted Belle, almost like whenever she hugged Jefferson, yet different somehow. She closed her eyes, drinking in his warmth.

"Thank you," he whispered, his accent oddly thick in her ears.

"For what?" she asked dumbly. Did she even do anything?

"For listening to me," he replied, reluctantly pulling away to look at her, but they still had their arms wrapped around each other. "For being a good friend."

Belle smiled warmly at him. "Right back at you."

Right when the words left her mouth, Nick leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, and she thought her heart was gonna thud out of her chest. He pulled back; trying to make it sound like it was no big deal. "I need to get going," he slowly untangled his arms away from her and stood up. "Thanks again for being nice to Bae. You're welcome to come sight-seeing around town with us if you like."

"No, that's fine," she shook her head. "You both need that time together. I have some writing I need to get done tomorrow anyway."

"Of course," he nodded. "Goodnight, Belle."

She bit her lip, trying not to blush at the pleasant way her name sounded on his lips. "Goodnight, Nick."

He walked back to the bathroom, and she waited until she heard the window shut before she even thought of moving around. She leaned back into the couch, pressing her hand against the spot on her forehead where he kissed her. She could still feel his lips there, closing her eyes and reliving the feeling of hugging his warm body to her, his scent filling her nostrils, his warm breath brushing against her ear when he spoke-

Her eyes snapped open, and she shook her head, quickly putting her hand down. "Stop that," she scolded herself. She couldn't, shouldn't, be thinking thoughts like that, especially if the man she's thinking about is sleeping with his a woman that wasn't her.

She blamed Jefferson and his sick way of putting thoughts into her head. "I'm not telling him _anything_."

_**A/N: And there you have it. Also, I can let you guys know ahead of time that the next chapter will be posted on December 13th (my birthday). Why so long a wait, you ask? Well, it's a special chapter, and I want to make sure it's perfect... Thanks again for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. I am greatful for all of you!**_


	8. A Day of Firsts

_**A/N: I apologize for promising to have this posted thursday and not posting. It was my intention to have it posted then, but things didn't work out. I hope this chapter makes up for it. **_

**_So, this is my first time writing a sex scene. Let me know what you think and please be gentle… I didn't mean that as a double entendre._**

**_Also, in the Dollar Tree scene, I've hid 9 easter eggs giving shout-outs to other fics and an obvious OUAT reference; 10 in total. If you can name all 10, you get a gold star :) Hope you all enjoy! It might be easier to catch the references if you follow the great rumbelle writers on tumblr._**

**Chapter 8: A Day of Firsts**

It had been a couple of days since Bae flew back to Glasgow, and Nick had promised him that he would be there in a month for his wedding. After the past couple of days, he felt the tension he had been holding in for years slowly release. Seeing his son again helped along with being able to talk to him again about the things he was afraid to admit.

Opening up with Belle eased the stress away also. He had almost expected her to be judging of him for his past, but she didn't say anything of the sort. She hugged him instead. He could still feel her arms wrapped around him as he woke up that morning.

After Bae was dropped off at the airport, Belle had called him and asked if they could have breakfast soon. Of course he agreed, offering to make it himself. This was why he was up so early, frying bacon and cooking pancakes at an ungodly hour. He preferred Belle's cooking rather than his own, but he didn't mind trying to cook for her. He decided to dress casual for the day, wearing a white button-up shirt and blue jeans.

Once Nick turned the stove off, the door knocked on cue. Setting aside his ovenmitts, he walked over to the door, and opened it to find Belle on the other side. She was dressed nicely, he noted. She wore a blue foral dress with a brown belt around the waist, and a white button-up sweater over it. "Hey," was all he could say.

"Good morning to you, too," she smiled, noticing how tired he must of looked. She walked through sniffing the air. "Smells delicious in here!"

"I should hope so," Nick replied as he closed the door behind them. "I've been cooking all morning."

She nodded her approval at the plate of pancakes on the island. "I'm impressed."

He grabbed two plates from one of the cabinets and handed her one. "As usual, you may help yourself."

She nodded, grabbing a fork and shoveling pancakes and bacon on her plate. "How was your time with your son?" she asked as she sat down in the booth.

"It was great," he began pouring her a glass of orange juice. "We visited the Statue of Liberty, took a walk around Central Park... We did a lot of things."

"That's great," she smiled just before taking a bite of her bacon.

"It's very interesting, you know?" he mused. "When we were together, it was just like the old days when I use to take him for rides through town and we would always eat lunch at this wee tiny restaurant everyday. It was nice to go back to that," he leaned against the island, his mug of coffe in his hands. "Relive the simpler times."

Belle nodded, understanding exactly those feelings. "It's always nice to take a break."

"Aye," he agreed. He snapped out of his daydreams quickly enough to start putting food on his own plate. "So, what have you been up to lately?"

"Well," she grinned setting her fork aside a moment to reach into her brown bag she brought in. "I've been making a little money on the side."

Nick was confused as to what she meant until she pushed a newspaper toward him that read _The New York Times_. "What's all this then?"

"Turn to page C3," she bit her lip as if she were holding something back.

He did as he was told, opening up the paper until he got to the desired page. Near the top of the page, just under the writer's section, was a long rectangle with the title _"Wilted Roses" by Isabella French_. "Is this part of your novel?" he asked, amazed.

"No," she shook her head, but the smile still stayed on her face. "Sometimes when I can't think of anything specific, I write little drabbles of story ideas and save them away for a rainy day. My agent suggested I send some of them to get my name out there again." Her grin got bigger, and she bounced in her seat a little, obviously excited.

"That's fantastic," Nick smiled, truly happy for her. "We should celebrate!" He then got up from the bar and opened the pantry tight next to the fridge.

"What are you doing?" Belle asked curiously.

"Good news calls for good champagne," he called back, his voice slightly muffled.

"Oh no," she tried to shake her head, but he obviously wasn't looking at her. "You don't have to waste champagne on me."

"Nothing is wasted when it comes to you," he argued, bending down to grab a bottle closer to the floor.

Even though Nick wasn't looking at her, she turned her face away so he wouldn't see her blush. "I've never had champagne for breakfast before," she said amused.

He stood back up with a champagne bottle in one hand and two skinny glasses on the other. "There's a first time for everything, dearie." He froze for a moment; an idea formed in his head. "Belle, what are your plans for today?"

She shrugged. "I was going to try and write, but inspiration takes a while. Why?"

"What if, and stop me if I start to souind crazy," he began, walking the rest of the way to the island to sit down. "What if we spent the day doing things we've never done before?" his tone sounded more sneaky than he intended.

Belle's eyebrow arched. She didn't seem to get where he was going with this. "What things are we talking about?"

"Well," he stumbled a moment, trying to put the right workd together. "For example, you're having champagne for breakfast, which you've never done before. Afterwards, we'll do something I've never done before, and we'll just keep going back and forth."

She bit her lip, glancing to the side. "Huh," she grinned. "Sounds like fun."

"Then it's settled," he finalized, tearing the wrapping off of the bottle. "You and I will have a day of firsts."

"It's a deal," she agreed just as he popped the cork off the bottle. She ducked under the counter to avoid getting doused in champagne.

...

"Where's the one place in New York City you haven't been?" Belle asked as the pair walked down the street.

"Hmm," Nick muttered as he tugged his leather jacket closer to fight the tiny chill that went through the air. "I've been to mostly everywhere here for TV spots and such."

She shook her head. Finding things he hadn't done before was harder than she thought. "Are we going to keep walking until we find a place you don't recognize?"

"Pretty much."

She didn't respond to that. They kept walking until they got to the really tall buildings. When they stopped at the crosswalk, Nick spotted a nice building with collums and a stone lion on each side of the staircase. "The New York Public Library," he read the sign aloud.

"Oh!" Belle grinned. "I've been there once. It's so lovely on the inside."

"It is?"

She looked at him astonished. "Don't tell me _you've_ never been there before."

"I never had the time," he admitted. "All of the books I got here were from book stores and magazine stands."

Belle got an idea. "So you've never been to an American library?"

"No I-" he stopped, understanding where she was coming from. "So this will be _my _first?"

"Now we're tied," she grinned as she started dragging him towards the entrance. She was probably more excited by this than he was.

They stepped through the entrance and they found themselves in a large room where long tables lined up across the room. It reminded Belle of the Hogwarts Grand Hall.

"Wow," Nick marveled. "This place is big!"

She smiled at him. "I know."

They began walking where the tall bookshelves were, both of them staring at the books as if they were kids in a candy store. "How are you supposed to find anything here?"

"Don't the libraries in Scotland have card catalogs?"

"Not the small ones I've been too," he admitted. "There were only a few shelves, and if you didn't find what you were looking for, you were stuck."

She led him to a computer set up against a shelf. "Just type what you're looking for, and it should give you the answer."

He couldn't think of any book in particular, so he typed a random author name until a big list of pages popped up. "How do you read this?"

She leaned over. "The 'A' means you can find it in the adult section, and they are alphabatized by author name."

"Oh, I get ya," he then stepped in front of her to block her view of the computer. "You're not allowed to look."

She raaised her eyebrows. "Okay..." she said unsure, but she turned away from him anyway, listening to him type away.

Once he was finished, he switched back to the main menu, grabbed her wrist and led her down the shelves. They bobbed and weaved through them until Nick stopped at a shelf ner the front of the adult section. Belle was curious as to what he was looking for. He looked up at the tall bookshelf in front of him. "How am I suppose to get up there?"

She walked over and grabbed a ladder leaning against the shelf, sliding it over to him.

"Thanks," he told her as he gripped the ladder and began climbing up. He stopped midway, brushing his thumb along the spines and mouthing the author name as he went. Once he found what he was looking for, he grabbed it from the shelf and walked back down the ladder. He hopped over the last wrung and held the book out to her like a little kid.

He was holding her book.

"I didn't think they had a copy," Belle was astonished as she held the book in her hands. She opened the back cover where the Property of the New York Public Library stamp was in the top corner. She couldn't help but smile at that.

"You should sign it," he suggested.

"I'm sorry?" she looked back at him.

"You know, make it personal," he started digging his hands into his pockets, looking for a pen. "How many autographed books do you think this library has?"

"If they have any, they wouldn't put them in the system," she argued. "If they had a autographed J.K. Rowling book lying about, it would never get returned."

"Then they'll just have to keep buying more copies, and you'll get more money," he insisted, grabbing a pen he found by another computer. "You never know, it might make someone's day to see your signature in there."

She stared down at the pen in his hand. This was wrong, and she could get in big trouble for doing this. Then again, how many people were eager to read her books? Maybe no one would notice. She reluctantly grabbed the pen from him, and opened the back cover where it would be less noticeble. "What should I say?"

He cleared his throat and said, "_to the New York Public_- no. _To you, my lovely reader. May you enjoy this book and bask in the greatness that is my writing. Love, Isabella French_."

She rolled her eyes. "How about,_ to you my lovely reader, enjoy! love, Belle French_?"

He shrugged. "I guess that works, too."

She began writing her message. Before she could write her last name, however, a stern voice called out, "What do you think you're doing?"

They both turned to see an older woman wearing a gray vest with a dark green dress. Her hair was tied in a bun, and she had a gold name tag pinned to her outfit. She was obviously one of the librarians.

_Oh, shit_, Belle blanched.

"Doodling in our books is defacing public property," she scolded.

"She's not _doodling_," Nick got defensive. "She's autographing it. She happens to be Isabella French, the author of this said book."

"Nick, don't-"

"I don't care if she's the President," the librarian shot back, planting her fists against her waist. "Writing in books is against our rules."

"Well you have a pretty fucked up system if authors can't personalize their work."

Both Belle and the librarian gasped. She handed the book back to the librarian. "Here, you can use white out." She then grabbed Nick's arm and they ran off.

"Stop!" the woman shouted, but it was useless.

Once they finally got out of the building, they hid on the far side behind a tall beam and collapsed against the wall, catching their breath.

Despite it all, Belle started giggling. "I can't believe you just cursed out a librarian."

"Does that count as another first for me?" he glanced at her, grinning victoriously.

She facepalmed. "Sure, why not."

...

Swearing at a librarian and "defacing public property" tied them both up. For lunch, they both went to a restaurant where they ordered things they never tried before. Nick ordered sushi, and Belle had escartgo. They both agreed they couldn't see themselves eating these everyday.

After lunch, Nick decided it was Belle's turn to do her first thing. When they passed by a tiny store, grinned evilly.

"Have you ever gotten a five-finger discount at a 25 cent store before?" he whispered.

It took Belle a minute to remember what "five-finger discount" meant. "No," she hissed. "I'm not stealing anything."

"Relax," he told her. "It's not like we're robbing a bank. Just taking a tiny bauble that no one's going to care about."

She shook her head. "We can't do that. Besides, we don't have 25 cent stores anymore."

"No, but we do have dollar stores," he pointed at the shop in front of them with a sign reading _Dollar Tree_. "Just follow my lead, and try not to look to obvious."

She held her breath as he led her to the front entrance. "I don't see the point in this," she whispered to him. "There's nothing I need in here badly enough to steal."

"Oh, you were one of _those_ kids growing up," he said, seemingly insulting her.

She arched her eyebrow at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't answer when they walked through the door. The store wasn't that full, but there was still quite a few people there, and the place was decorated for Halloween.

"Like I said, try to be inconspicuous," he whispered as they kept walking.

_Okay, I can do this_, she encouraged herself. _Just pretend you're another customer browsing through the store like those other shoplifters on TV_.

They stopped at a bin where various Halloween toys were stuffed. Nick picked up a stuffed cat with a red scarf sewn to it, turning it in his hands pretending to scrutinize it. Belle reached into the bin and pulled out a orange and black Jack-o-lantern in a box with a red peddle. She only turned it three times, but the springy pumpkin still popped out. She jumped, quickly closing the lid and throwing the box back into the bin. A few people glanced at them.

"Don't make eye contact," he whispered.

She looked way from them and they kept on walking. They glanced at a long set of coffee mugs; green, white, red, yellow... She was surprised there were that many colors. They stopped again, and she picked up a wine glass, pretending to admire the shiny glass. She then shrugged and put it back. She glanced at Nick who was grinning at her.

She smiled back as if to say,_ hey I can do this too_. She sauntered past him where the paperback books were. She picked one up, unable to decipher the title because it was in such fancy writing. It had a red rose with tiny thorns and a yellow ribbon tied in a bow on the cover. She flipped to a random page, and the first sentence she saw was, "... _and she whimpered beneath him_-" She quickly put it back, picking up a sudoku book instead. She glanced over the edge of her book, watching Nick thumb through a row od Apollo chocolate bars.

She wondered for a moment how many times he had shoplifted as a kid, because he seemed _too_ good at this. Then again, she hadn't seen him steal anything yet. She put the sudoku book down and walked past him towards a row of tiny porcelein dolls as big as her hand. She thought they were very pretty. Some were in old fashion dresses from the Victorian era, and a couple were dressed as Southern Belles. She picked up one with curly brown hair, and she war a Civil War era dress, just like the Southern Belles, but this one was a more simple dress. It was blue with yellow flowers on it. It remeinded her of Jo March from _Little Women_, which was one of her favorite books growing up.

She put the doll back, feeling strange eyes glancing her way. She quickly separated herself from Nick who was thumbing through cheap CDs. She walked past other bins and found herself in the clothing section... Or whatever passed as a clothing section. There were only a row of Halloween sweaters with a few normal ones mixed in. She thumbed through the Pumpkins, skeleton, one with red A's stitched to the sleeves, and the one Christmas sweater that made its way into the rack before it was even November. She moved away from the sweater, picking up a gold knit scarf at the end of the aisle. She looked at herself through the tiny mirror by the sunglasses, holding the tassles of the scarf to her face. It looked pretty enough on her, but she shook her head, putting it back on the rack with the other winter wear.

She walked past the cheap Halloween costumes where she saw Nick shuffling through a bin full of Halloween masks. He picked up a Batman mask, sticking his thumb through the eye holes. Belle followed suit, picking up a mask made to look like a grey cat. She slipped it on and turned her head sideways at Nick.

He glanced up at her, biting back a giggle. He then nodded at her, pointing at her mask. She figured this meant he wanted her to steal that. She made to take the mask off, but he put his hand on her arm, stopping her. He pushed the mask back over her face.

He had to be kidding. There was no way Belle could leave the store _wearing_ the mask. As if he read her mind, he grabbed a a different cat mask, this one with orange and brown stripes, and slipped it over his head. He was offering to walk out with her.

Belle took a deep breath, the air barely escaping the mask. He bent his head down low, and grabbed her hand, comforting her, as the made their way back to the entrance. Belle's heart beat raced with every step they took.

Once the doors to the entrance slid open. Nick shouted, "Now!" And they both broke out into a run, their hands still intertwined with one another's.

...

They finally made it back to the apartment without much trouble. They were still wearing their masks when they walked through the door into the lobby. They leaned against the wall laughing.

"Oh my goodness," Belle exclaimed. "I've never ran so fast in my entire life!"

"Yeah," Nick agreed, sliding down the wall to sit. "Last time I ran from a security guard was Scotland. I was seventeen and me and a few others were spray painting the side of the school."

"How did that end?"

"Suspension," he shrugged. "So, I believe that's four for you and three for me."

"That's right, I'm in the lead," she taunted. "What's something you haven't done before?"

"That doesn't involve going out into public?"

"Preferably."

Nick took his mask off, scratching the top of his head in thought. What was something hadn't done that wouldn't get him arrested? He glanced over at Belle, remembering how brave she was today with the shoplifting and writing in a library book-

"I know!" he figured out. "You know that book you're writing?"

"What about it?"

"I've never read a manuscript for a novel before," he suggested. "Would you be willing to let me read your?"

Belle stood still, her nerves tightening up all of a sudden. She couldn't let Nick read it yet. He would know she was writing about him, and he would freak. She couldn't tell him no either. "Um... sure, I guess," she replied uneasily, taking her mask off.

"You're sure?" he asked, as if reading her discomfort.

"No, it's fine. Just..." she trailed off a moment, suddenly losing the ability to form coherent words. "I just need to print everything off. Give me a few moments, and I'll meet you back at your apartment."

"Okay," he agreed as he got up and began walking up the stairs.

Belle followed him a few steps behind. She knew she was going to have to tell him at one point, but she didn't think it would be now. If she didn't tell him, he would figure it out for himself. _Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow_, she told herself.

...

Nick waited in his living room for Belle to arrive with her manuscript. He knew it was probably unfinished and she hadn't had the time to go through and edit it. That was probably why she seemed so nervous when talking about it.

After about an hour of waiting, Belle knocked on his front door. She was still wearing her outfit from that day, but she had changed out of her heels and into a pair of house shoes. He immediately regretted making her run earlier.

"Well, here it is," she said, holding out a stack of papers shoved into a oversized folder. "Be as honest as you want," she paused a moment before adding, "but be gentle."

"I will definitely do that," he promised. Just as he opened the folder, she started walking away. He dashed into the hallway to catch up with her. "Where are you going?"

"Back to my apartment," she answered. "Why?"

"You're not gonna stay?"

"Oh, no," she shook her head. "I can't stand being in the same room with anyone while they read my stuff. Just come back to my place when you're done and tell me what you think."

He agreed to do that as she walked away.

Nick went back into his apartment and sat down on the couch. He pulled the stack of papers out of the folder. They were all the usual printer paper white except for the blue notebook paper on top. He sat the rest of the story down as he read the note:

_Nick,_

_I've been meaning to tell you something. It's not easy for me to reveal things about my story like this, especially if they're still being worked on. The main character, Mr. Silver, might seem familiar to you... _

_He's based off of you._

He paused in his reading, staring shocked at the one sentence. She made a character for him? Why would she do something like that? He's not important enough for that. He tried to push it from his mind, and finished the note...

_The idea came to me the day after the party, and I couldn't help myself. Mr. Silver does have some traits about him that aren't plesant, but I don't want you to think that I think_ you're _unplesant. You're far from that. You are great to be around, and I look forward to our time together every morning._

_With all that said, I do hope you enjoy what I've written and that you won't judge me too harshly._

_With Love, Belle_

He stared at the note, still amazed at her. Did she really think him that special? He tried to shake the thought away. He put the note aside and picked up the first page of the manuscript...

...

Belle sat on the couch, nervously biting her lip. Since she had gotten back to her apartment, she started wiping the kitchen down; not that it needed cleaning or anything. It was something for her to do while she waited for Nick to finish reading her unfinished manuscript. She was on pins and needles waiting for his reply.

When the kitchen was scrubbed to the point of the linoleum scraping off the floor, she went about organizing the living room. Whenever she was nervous, she would try to busy herself to keep her mind off of things.

Sadly, it wasn't working, and she was reduced to sitting on the couch and watching TV. Edward Scissorhands played, but she wasn't paying attention to it, staring at the screen while her conscience berated her.

What was she thinking, telling Nick that she was writing a book about him? Okay, not _about_ him, but based the main character off of him. _He might be offended_, she thought. But she didn't say anything horrible about his character, if you didn't count that he was a Scrooge-like pawnbroker.

_He's gonna hate me_! She facepalmed.

Who knew what he would say about the chipped cup. Did he even remember that she still had it? Belle just knew he was going to think of her as some kind of stalker who was madly in love with him. _Might as well_, she thought miserably. _I already climb through his window to say hello every once in a while_.

She sat up straight, a light bulb clicking on in her head.

Nick climbed through her window just as much as she did his. A lot of the time he would initiate the conversations and ask about her. He invited her to his party and offered to make breakfast every once in a while. If he was going to call her a stalker, he might as well write the word 'hypocrite' across his forehead.

That was when Belle asked herself the question that needed to be discussed...

_What kind of relationship do we have_?

Nick had said off the bat that they were friends, but it didn't feel like it to her; it felt more... personal than that. As far as she knew, she was the only one he had told about Bae and his past digressions growing up, and he was the only one she had confided in, minus Mary Margaret, since moving to New York.

Sure, really good friends did all of that, but what about the other moments? The moments when they hugged each other and everything bad had melted away? Or the time when they sang in her living room, and she had found herself lost in his eyes when singing?

Belle had an idea of what it was, but she couldn't force herself to say nor think the word aloud. How could she even believe in feeling like that? They had only known each other for two weeks! She admitted it was longer than what Romeo and Juliet had, but it still felt too soon to be thinking things like that.

A knock on the door brought her back to reality. She quickly turned the TV off, and got up to answer the door. When she opened it, she saw Nick on the other side. He held the rolled up manuscript in his left hand. She kept her feet steady when all she wanted to do was run away. She gazed at his face, unable to read his blank expression.

"Hi," she said nervously, trying to fill the silence.

"Hi," he responded, keeping his voice neutral. "I finished reading your story."

"And?" She forced out.

He looked away for a moment, as if trying to find the right thing to say. It was the same look her high school English teacher gave when she was about to correct her grammar.

_Oh no, he thinks it's bad. He thinks it's-_

"When do you plan on finishing it?"

She froze. A small smile appeared on his face. "You like it?"

"Of course, Belle," he beamed. "This is a wonderful story! How could I not?"

"So, you're not mad at me? For using you as the main character?"

"Actually, I'm flattered," he answered honestly as he stepped into the room.

She closed the door behind them. "Flattered? How can you be flattered? I made you the grumpy one."

"The _lead_ grumpy one," he corrected. "Sure, he has some," he paused, thinking of a word, "non-desirable traits, but who doesn't? That's what makes him realistic."

Belle breathed a sigh of relief. "So, you really do like it?"

He set the manuscript on the kitchen counter, and walked over to stand in front of her. "Yes, I love it. It's one of the best unfinished stories I've read." He then gave her a pointed look she knew meant _finish it_.

She smiled, then wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hug. "Thank you."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Anytime, Belle."

There it was again. The way he said her name in her ear. It was unintentional on his part, but she couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of warmth in her belly. Her name sounded so good in his accent. She stepped back in an attempt to stop their embrace. On the way, however, he did something she never saw coming.

He kissed her.

_Oh my, gosh! Oh my, gosh_! Her mind was screaming; in fear or excitement, she couldn't tell which.

His lips gently moved against her attempting to deepen the kiss, but she couldn't respond. She was too shocked. He quickly pulled away, opening his eyes to see her expression. "Oh no, Belle," he trailed off, pulling away. "Oh God, Belle. I'm so sorry."

She felt the warmth leave when he let go of her. "Nick, I-"

"I should've asked or something," he said, nervously shifting his stance as if deciding whether to pace or not. "I should go."

He started to walk past her to go for the door. That was enough to snap her out of her frozen state and grab his forearm. They both quickly turned to face each other. Nick made a weak attempt at pulling his arm away from her, but she held on tighter and said, "No, don't go."

He stood still, shocked by her words. She was shocked herself. She ignored any logic that was probably running through her head. All she knew was she didn't want him to leave.

"Please stay," she pleaded.

She felt his arm relax and she eased her grip on him. What happened next was something she didn't give much thought to. She stepped forward and placed her lips on his.

It took Nick a second to respond and kiss back. It was sweet and gentle at first, with Belle resting her hands on his shoulders. Nick wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. The kiss got deeper as she encircled her arms around his neck. He brushed his tongue across her lower lip, begging entrance. She accepted, opening her mouth as his tongue slid through.

She could feel his heartbeat echo from his chest to hers. He gently bit her lip, eliciting a tiny moan from her throat. They slowly pulled apart, breathing deeply. He rested his forehead against hers. "Belle..." was all he could think to say.

"Don't say anything," she whispered, happily lost in whatever fantasy they just made for themselves.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, his voice husky.

She looked up into his eyes; brown and lust filled, yet cautious. She appreciated his asking, knowing he wouldn't take advantage if she said 'no'. This wouldn't be her first time having sex. Gary was her first and only partner, but there wasn't much lust on her part. She had felt obligated at the time.

Here, with Nick, she knew she wanted him. She ignored the denials of her head and agreed with her rapidly beating heart. She had a feeling she might regret this later, but for now, all she wanted was to be in Nick's arms. She wanted to kiss him, scratch her nails down his back, and ignore everything else around them.

"Yes," she responded just before she plundered his mouth once more.

Nick pulled away for a second to kick off his shoes, making Belle giggle. Once they were off, he kissed her again. He left her mouth and started trailing kisses along her jawline, stopping once he got to her ear and nibbled the lobe. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she could feel him smirking against her skin. He dipped his head lower, kissing the hollow between her neck and shoulder. He bit down on the soft flesh, making her gasp.

"You must've had a bad sex life if I turn you on this much," he joked, placing a soft kiss against the area he bit.

"When you have a fiance who screams his own name during climax, it tends to go downhill from there," she mused.

He let out a laugh as he reached his fingers to her back where the zipper on her dress was. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered in her ear. "The only one who'll be screaming my name is you." He pulled her zipper all the way down and brushed the straps down her arm.

Tired of standing still and letting him have all the fun, she leaned closer to kiss his neck just as he did to her and began unbuttoning his shirt. His warm breath on her shoulder slowed her fingers, but she was able to get to the last button. He helped her pull it off, revealing the lean body she hadn't seen since the day they met when she stumbled on his fire escape. They went back to each other's lips as he helped pull her dress down, the blue fabric falling around her ankles.

Nick walked her backwards towards the couch. She stumbled a little and fell back into the cushions. He eased himself down to straddle her lap. He sat still, staring down at the woman under him. Her brown hair draped over the arm rest, and she looked up at him with blue, lustful eyes. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He never thought he would get the chance to see Belle like this; lying under him in only her lacy, skin colored underwear, and wanting.

"Is everything okay?" She asked, shifting under him so she was comfortable. The motion was enough for his member to stiffen.

"You're so beautiful," he replied softly, his voice awestruck.

He didn't give her the chance to say anything back as he bent down and took her mouth with his once more. She wrapped her arms around him, scratching her nails against his shoulder blades. He moaned against her lips and she slipped her tongue into his mouth. As they kissed, he reached around to unhook her bra. He had to stop kissing her to unhook the last clasp. He pulled it off of her and tossed it aside where it landed with their other discarded clothes.

They both chuckled as he lowered her down and kissed her chin. He trailed his kisses down her neck, then throat. He paused at the collarbone and nipped at her pulse point.

She shut her eyes tight, enjoying the feel of his teeth, lips, and tongue against her skin. He pulled his hand back to grope her right breast. His hand kept going as he went back to leaving kisses behind as he reached the other breast. He took her nipple between his teeth, and she arched her back.

She hummed her approval as he sucked and licked the puckered bead. He blew his hot breath against it, and she moaned. She felt him grunt against her breast just as she felt his hard-on rub against her thigh. She couldn't help but smirk as she reached her hand to rub his chest, trailing down until she reached the hem of his pants.

He moaned as she slipped her fingers through his jeans, one by one. "Oh, Belle," he gasped when she grabbed him. She stroked him back and forth as he pressed his mouth against her stomach. After a moment, he grabbed her arm making her stop.

"Problem?" She asked slyly.

He glanced up at her with dark eyes. "No," he breathed. "I just don't want to come apart in your hand."

A thought occurred to her. "Do you have a..."

She didn't have to say it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom. "Always come prepared," he grinned.

She didn't dwell on the comment. She made to grab the condom from him so she could put it on him, but he jerked it away.

"Not yet, m'dear," he said pointedly. "Turnabout is fairplay."

Before she could ask what he meant, he grabbed her underwear. He had to stand up a second to pull the off of her. He pushed down his own pants, leaving him in his boxers, before lowering back down. He trailed a finger up her thigh and straight to her privates.

She shuddered as he slipped between her lips and began moving around, searching for the sweet spot. She moaned when he reached his target. He smirked, stroking circles around her clit. He lowered his head to her neck, sucking and kissing the same spot as before as he kept stroking her.

She slipped her fingers through his hair, fisting the strands between her fingers and lightly pulling with each wave of pleasure that went through her body.

"Nick, please..." she breathed. Her mind was clouded and she couldn't think straight. He flicked her once and she jerked under him. "Fuck," she squeaked.

He laughed lightly. "Is that a demand?"

She rolled her eyes, refusing to humor him. He stroked harder and faster, arching her back as she came. He slowly pulled his fingers out of her, and she groaned her disapproval. He lifted his head and began licking his fingers. "You taste better than I expected," he mused.

"How long do you plan to toy with me like this?" She asked, her voice ragged.

"Is that how you see this?" He asked, almost hurt.

"Not exactly," she responded, then grinned, adding, "I want you inside me as soon as possible."

He cocked his eyebrow. "As you wish."

He grabbed the condom again, ripping the wrapper. He sat up, slipping out of his boxers. Belle watched as he slipped it on. He lowered himself back down, lining them both up. "You ready?" He asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

She nodded. She bit back her cries as he pushed himself inside her. He moved around lightly until her cries of pain turned to pleasure. He pulled out halfway and thrust back into her again. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he kept moving inside her. They stifled each other's moans with kisses, keeping up a steady rhythm. He planted one foot on the ground as his thrusts got harder and faster.

"Oh, yes! Don't stop!" She begged, her legs wrapping tighter as the tension inside her built up. "Aahh!"

He groaned against her shoulder. "Belle. My wonderful Belle..."

Her head fell back against the arm rest. She could feel him getting closer to his breaking point. She clenched around him, arching her back as she came apart.

"Oh, Nick!" she screamed just as he said she would.

He moaned as he rode out her climax. He slowly went still as he bit back his cries, coming inside her.

He collapsed against her, both of them breathing heavily. He slipped out of her as he moved off of her to sit on the floor in front of her. His head fell back against her chest.

"Wow," was all Nick could say.

"Ditto," Belle agreed as she turned on her side to face him.

"It's only ten o'clock," he said glancing at the clock on the TV.

"So?" she chuckled.

"It's not midnight," he turned his head to look at her. "Which means today is still a day of firsts."

"Oh..." she nodded, remembering all they did that day. "Who's first is this?"

He wrapped his hand around hers, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. "I think this one's for both of us. This is your first time having good sex."

She laughed at him. "You're so humble."

"And," he continued, "This is the first time I've ever had sex with a writer."

She shook her head at him. She wouldn't be surprised if he told her how many women he'd had sex with. He had that playboy vibe when they first met. She didn't want to ask him. This was their night. "So it's a tie then."

He brought her hand to her lips and kissed it. "If you're willing, there are a few things I'd like to try before midnight," he looked at her flirtatiously.

"We'll see," she said, leaning over to kiss him.


	9. Unfinished Matters

_**A/N: I just want to say thank you all for the wonderful reviews for the last chapter! I was so nervous about that scene, and you all were so nice about it. This chapter is shorter than the last one, but I hope you like it all the same.**_

**Chapter 9: Unfinished Matters**

Nick turned in his sleep and the sunlight hit his face, causing him to wake up. He quickly turned his head away from the window, facing the far off wall instead. The first thing he noticed was the tiny painting of a floral garden framed on the wall.

I don't remember having that in my room, he thought with a slight scowl.

As he looked down at the light purple bed sheets, everything suddenly clicked, and his memories from the night before came to him. He was in Belle's room.

Nick sat up, running a hand through his sleep-tangled hair. He remembered coming up to her apartment to give her back her manuscript, and then kissing her. He hadn't known why he did it. It was as if his body were acting against his mind at that moment. Lucky for him, she didn't reject him.

Instead, they had sex.

Nick still couldn't believe it. He never thought their relationship would get that far. Of course, the part of his brain controlled by his libido hoped they would, but his logical side couldn't fathom this. What might have confused him more was Belle's willingness to it.

Did she have a couple of drinks before he got there? If so, he would've felt extremely guilty. Her breathe didn't smell or taste of alcohol, he recalled. She tasted sweet; like the honey she put in her tea. He could still smell her perfume wafting from the bed sheets.

Come to think of it, where was Belle?

He slapped a hand down on the empty space next to him where she was supposed to be. Before he could start panicking, he heard the shower start up in the other room. He sighed in relief, glad she didn't leave him. Then again, this was _her_ apartment.

He thought back again to their time they spent last night. The first time was just simple for him, but it still left a chill in his spine. After their fun on the couch, they continued their fun in the bedroom so they had more room. He closed his eyes, humming in pleasure just thinking about it all. He was tempted to get out of bed and join her in the shower.

He heard his phone ringing from a distance, letting out a frustrated breath when he realized he left it the living room along with the rest of his clothing. He pulled himself out of bed and walked out of the bedroom.

He made his way to the living room, bending over to grab his phone from his pocket. "Hello?" he answered.

"Well aren't you awake early," mocked an all too familiar voice.

"When you call this early Regina, it's hard not to be," he replied smartly. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to see you, of course," he could hear the smirk in her voice.

"Here?"

"Gold, I suggest you get your mind out of dreamland and answer your door."

_Shit! _Nick should've known she would be making a house call. He had only seen a little of her since Belle had moved in, which was expected since Daniel was home. She only slept with Nick when he was away, and she needed an itch to scratch. "Give me a moment," he told her before hanging up.

He pulled his pants on as quick as he could and slipped his shoes on. As he grabbed his shirt, he remembered Belle who was still in the shower. What would she think of him if he left so early?

_A note!_ he realized. Surely if he left a note she would forgive him, right? Lucky for him, Belle was a writer who had plenty of pens strewn about (Which were in a cup the night before, but... you know). He grabbed one by the table and walked over to the counter where he had left her manuscript. He wrote a quick note on the folder and dashed for the door.

He stopped, his hand frozen on the door knob. _She's at your apartment! _he scolded himself. Walking to the front door was definitely out. His only way out was through the bathroom which had the fire escape.

Currently where Belle was showering.

At this point, Nick was convinced Fate was punishing him for some unknown reason.

Taking a deep breath, Nick crept towards the bathroom. He slowly opened the door to hear the shower still going. Noting that she couldn't see him, he eased himself through and did his best to close the door without making any noise.

_"You say... we got nothing in common... no common ground to start from... and we're falling apart..." _he heard Belle sing.

He tip-toed to the window, holding his breath as he pushed it upward. She sang over the noise, thankfully. He swung one leg out the window and crawled out.

He didn't give himself time to relax. He closed the window shut and started dashing down the slanted ladder that led to his apartment. He wrenched his own window open and all but jumped through the opening. He swore when he landed on his knee. He didn't break anything, but it hurt like hell.

He kicked his shoes off and limped towards his bedroom door. He ran the rest of the way and opened the front door to to see Regina on the other side with her arms crossed over her chest.

She took in his appearance with a mixture of confusion, concern, and annoyance. "What did you do? Run a marathon before answering the door?"

Nick leaned against the door, suddenly feeling very tired. "I fell back asleep after you called."

He saw her upper lip twitch. "I was wondering what took so long," she taunted as she walked past him to his couch.

"Please, come in and stay for a bit," he said sarcastically, closing his door.

"You seem very hostile this morning."

"You know I'm not much of a morning person."

"Obviously," her eyes fell onto the coffee table. She reached her hand out to pick up a cat mask; the same one he stole from the Dollar Tree yesterday. "Is this your Halloween costume?" she asked amused.

He bit his lip, not liking her holding that mask. It felt like she was invading on something that was only for him and Belle. He took a deep breath and walked over to the ottoman that sat across from her. "We need to talk."

Regina arched her eyebrow at him. "Oh do we now?" she dropped the mask back onto the table and adjusted herself to sit in a business-like manner. "What do we need to talk about?"

He knotted his fingers together, looking her in the eye. "How do you feel about Daniel?"

She was taken aback by this. "I don't understand-"

"How do you feel about him?" he asked again, slipping into his serious voice.

"I love him," she said after a oment of silence. "Why do you ask?"

He thought his words out carefully before speaking them. "If you love him, then why are you sleeping with me?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "We've had this conversation already," she reminded him. "Daniel goes away a lot, and I get lonely."

_Haven't you ever heard of sex toys?_ he wisely kept that comment to himself, replacing it instead with, "Why not wait it out? Wouldn't that make your reunions more special?"

Regina got that evil look in her eye again; the one where she uses to see past any bullshit he'd ever told her. "You never had a problem with this before," she said matter-of-factly.

"Well, I do now," he muttered, looking everywhere else but at her.

He could feel her smirk. "Is this about the writer girl that you invited to your party?" Before he could ask how she knew about that, she added, "Mal is quite the gossip girl. She said you were staring at her most of the night instead of paying attention to her. She called you rude."

"Do you honestly think I give a fuck about what Mal thinks?" he snapped.

"So it's true, then," she said, unaffected by his tiny outburst. "Nicholas Gold is smitten with another woman." When he didn't say anything, she continued. "I think it's cute, to be honest. It's about time you settled down with someone. You're not getting any younger."

Nick kept his face blank, not sure what to make of her accusations. He wasn't _smitten_, as she put it. He was very attracted to Belle, but he was a far cry from in love with her... wasn't he? "Regina, whatever you and I have, I want it to end," he finally said.

He wasn't sure what her reaction was going to be. He was half expecting her to get angry, slap him across the face, and storm out. Instead, she didn't move; her face betrayed nothing. "No you don't," she told him.

"Yes, I do," he said, unsettled by her calm demeanor.

"Your girlfriend writes books, does she not?"

"Of course she does," he looked at her oddly.

Regina leaned forward a bit as she began to speak. "Authors go on book tours. They travel everywhere to get publicity for it."

"What is your point?" he asked, already annoyed with her.

A sly smile appeared on her face. "She'll be out of town as much as Daniel is."

"No," he quickly stood up, walking towards the door. "You are not gonna pull that shit with me."

"I'm only telling you the facts," she stood up, but didn't budge. "Also, you forget that I'm paying you to spend time with me."

"I don't need your money," he said smartly, opening the door for her to leave.

"What about your _job_?" she asked slowly, an evil look in her eyes.

Nick didn't reply to that straight away. He had a feeling she would threaten to fire him if he didn't do everything she wanted. "I'll find a new agent."

She chuckled, then began to take slow steps towards him. "Do you honestly think you're going to find an agent who treats you as well as I do?"

"Yes, I do," he glared at her. He was close to grabbing her arm and throwing her out.

"If that's what you want," she stopped in front of him, running her hand down his arm soothingly. "Let me remind you what you're letting go."

Before he could do anything, her mouth was on his neck; her soft lips caressing the spot she (and Belle) knew made his knees shiver. He bit down on his lower lip as he pushed away from her. "You need to stop," he told her, trying to hold back the moan he almost let out.

She smirked at him. "I told you. You would miss me too much if I left."

"Regina, I'm telling you-"

"What? Are you afraid your girlfriend is going to walk in on us?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he blurted. His chest tightened when he said it, but it was the truth as far as he was concerned. Him and Belle had only spent that one night together, and neither of them mentioned anything about starting a relationship.

From the look on Regina's face, Nick immediately regretted his words. She cupped his cheek and whispered, "Then what's the problem?"

Nick didn't respond. Regina began to kiss him as she closed his apartment door with her other hand.

...

Belle was having a good day. After her shower, she was hoping to make some breakfast for her and Nick, but he had left a note saying something came up and that he would see her later. She figured he must've left in a hurry because he had forgot to grab his boxers, which she had found lying by the couch.

She giggled as she set them aside for her to give back to him later. She had to admit last night was one of the best nights she had had in a long time. Gary wasn't near as accommodating as Nick was, and he was very delicate with her; making her feel special.

She had made herself a short meal of toast and tea and spent the rest of her day writing. By the afternoon, the story she spent two and a half weeks working on was nearly written out. All she had to do was add a few more scenes and edit the grammer. This was the happiest she had felt in forever.

She stopped her writing when she heard the Skype jingle ring form her laptop. She minimized her window to answer the call, and Jefferson's face filled her screen. "Hi!" she smiled at him.

"Hey there!" he greeted back. "Someone seems really happy."

She shrugged, unable to wipe the smile on her face. "Well, today was a good day."

He stared at her a moment, trying to read her expression. She watched his eyes widen and his jaw drop. "You had sex!"

She jumped, blinking a couple of times. "No, I-I didn't..." she stuttered.

Jefferson cocked an eyebrow at her. "Girl, do not try and lie to me." He then added excitedly, "Was it Nick?"

Belle opened her mouth and closed it again. He took her silence as a yes.

"Hey guys!" he called out, turning to a few of the other army guys she saw walking behind him. "They finally did it!"

"Jeff!" she berated him as she saw some of the guys clapping and wolf-whistling. She also could've sworn she heard someone shout _"Finally!"_

"What? They're happy for you!" Jefferson defended, an innocent smile on his face.

She face-palmed herself. In an attempt to change the subject, she said, "I'm almost done with my book."

He brightened up at that. "That's awesome! You think I'll get the chance to read it when I get home?"

"Of course you will," she grinned. She couldn't wait until December for him to get back. They had already talked about him living with her until he found a steady job, and she was ecstatic to get to spend Christmas with him. "I told Nick that he was the inspiration for the main character," she said.

His expression was thoughtful. "And he was flattered?"

She nodded, refusing to admit_ how _flattered he was. "It was weird. I was so afraid to tell him, and now that he knows... I don't know why I was afraid."

"Of course you didn't," he agreed. "Anyone would be happy enough to find themselves the main character of a book."

She smiled at that. Before she could say anything, a buzzer went off in the background. "No fair," she groaned, knowing that meant he had to leave. "We barely had the chance to talk more."

He shrugged and frowned. "We've been pretty busy over here. I promise we'll talk later, okay?"

"Fine," she grumbled. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he gave her a salute before hanging up.

She exited out of her window, and put her laptop to sleep. She leaned back into the couch, wishing time would fly by quicker. She glanced over and saw Nick's boxers folded on the arm of the couch. She could see that the sun was about to set, and figured Nick would be home by now.

"I'll pay him a visit," she decided.

...

Belle had thought about sneaking through his window and sitting on his bed, waiting for him while wearing something sexy. She went against it thinking it felt too forward, and she didn't want to climb down the fire escape with only a trench coat on.

She grabbed her key, his underwear, and made her way to his place. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach, wondering if they would be having sex again that night. She still couldn't believe they had done it in the first place.

Belle wondered then what it meant now. Were they dating, or were they just friends with benefits? They didn't talk about it during they rendevous, neither of them wanting to think about what would happen the next morning. She had decided that, before they ever did it again, she was going to sit with him and discuss what they were going to do.

She got to his floor, and she could see his door just a few feet away from her. She paused, took a deep breath, and took a step forward.

She stopped when his door opened. Nick was there, but so was Regina. She couldn't move; she was hoping neither of them would see her if she didn't make a sound. She watched as she adjusted the collar of her silk shirt. She look up at Nick with a sly grin and sauntered the opposite side of the hall towards the elevator.

Belle wasn't stupid. She knew what that look meant.

"Nick?" she called just before he could shut his door.

He turned in her direction. She must've looked horrified because he looked nervous. "Hey," he greeted uneasily.

"You had a meeting with Regina?" she did her best to keep her voice steady.

He looked away from her a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say.

"You don't have to lie to me," Belle told him as if she could read his mind. "I should've expected this would happen."

He snapped his head back to look at her again. "What are you talking about?" he asked confused.

She walked towards him this time, and weaved around him to walk into his apartment. She didn't want whoever lived on the floor with him to hear their personal problems. "I know about you and Regina," she admitted once he closed the door.

"How did you find out?" he asked her.

It was her turn to glance away from him. "You remember the day we met? When I tripped down the ladder on your fire escape?"

She quickly looked at him to see his eyes widen. "You were spying one me?" he asked appalled.

"I didn't mean to," she defended. "I really was just taking a walk. I didn't see you two... together," she frowned, trying not to think what she would've done if she ever caught them doing it. "You were in the shower, and I saw her leave some money on your nightstand."

"Why did you lie to me?" he sounded angry.

"You honestly think I'd admit to eavesdropping on you? We had just met! I thought you were going to call the cops on me."

"You still should've told me," he said accusingly.

She shook her head. "Stop trying to change the subject!"

"But I-"

"You just had sex with Regina, didn't you?" she shot back.

He was silent a moment before glaring at her. "What's it to you if I did?"

She felt like he just punched her in the gut. She kept her head held high. "I was curious. After last night, I thought..." she trailed off, not wanting to say it.

He knew though. His features softened, and he took a small step toward her. "You thought we were dating," he confirmed for her.

She nodded uneasily. "I know we didn't talk about it, but I was hoping we would tonight, which is why I came down." She looked down at her hands, realizing she was still holding his boxers. "Also, to give you back these," she held them up for him.

Nick took them from her without a word, tossing them to the side. "We could still talk about it," he said hopefully.

She wished it was that simple, but she knew better. "No, we can't. The fact that you just had sex with Regina shows that you don't want anything more from me."

Nick shook his head. "It's nothing like that. What Regina and I have is purely business."

"Business?" she scoffed. "She's treating you like a prostitute!"

"I don't feel anything for her!"

"Then break it off with her!"

"I tried that already," he admitted desperately, "but she wouldn't hear it."

Belle blinked, not believing what she was hearing. "Then you're a coward," she said simply. "I'm not a fool, Nick. I'm sure you've slept with more women than I could count on one hand. Having sex with me last night may have been just another thing for you, but it meant a lot to me."

"It meant a lot to me, too," he said, his eyes looking sad.

"Obviously," she said sarcastically. "Unless you can prove me wrong, then I don't want to see you anymore."

He looked hurt. His eyes were wide with offense. "Belle, please don't-"

She ignored his pleas. She walked past him to the door, no daring to look back at him as she left. When she closed the door behind her, she heard the sound of something breaking. She kept walking, trying to ignore it as tears started to pour down her face.

_**A/N: Before you all start coming after me with torches and pitchforks, I must admit this one killed me also. Every cloud has a silver lining... It may take a few chapters to see it, but there is one!**_

_**Also, here are the results of the easter eggs I posted in the last chapter! A lot of the fics here can be found on tumblr. I have a tumblr for anyone interested. My username is gingerwhovianrobotskeleton.**_

_**1. Stuffed black cat = Avalon from NothingEverLost's "Things in Half Shadows" verse**_

_**2. Green and white mugs = thestraggletag's "Addiction"**_

_**3. Romance novel = nym's "Bed of Thorns"**_

_**4. Apollo bars = the Obvious OUAT/Lost reference**_

_**5. Victorian Dolls = Crankynerdgirl's "Pride and Other Poisons"**_

_**6. Southern Belle dolls = Nothingeverlost's "Beauty and the Yankee"**_

_**7. Sweater with red A's = Rufeepeach's "Rumour Has It"**_

_**8. Gold scarf = My oneshot "Knitting Gold"**_

_**9. Nick's cat mask = TemporalTeaTime's Cat!Rumpel fics**_

_**10. Belle's cat mask = my Cat!Belle fics (which I have posted on tumblr)**_


	10. Halloween

**Chapter 10: Halloween**

"I am almost done with editing this novel," Belle told Mary Margaret over the phone.

"That's terrific!" She could hear the smile in her voice. "Once you get it finished, be sure to email it so I can look it over before we start with the tedious work of finding a title and what not."

"I promise."

They said their goodbyes as Belle walked into the apartment building, carrying her lunch in a Subway bag. The past few days have felt like the longest ones she had ever faced.

She diverged herself into finishing her book, ignoring phone calls and hiding from the real world until she was satisfied with her work. The only time she left her apartment was to get food when she realized she was almost out. The pressure to finish her story stressed her out, but it provided a nice distraction from other matters.

She hadn't spoken to Nicholas in the last few days since she told him that she didn't want to see him anymore. She had a hard time sleeping that night, thoughts of their night together still plaguing her. She spent most of the next morning doing laundry, washing her bed sheets until the deep purple fabric faded to lavender.

When that didn't help, she went back to writing. It wasn't easy at first since Mr. Silver was based on him, so she forced herself to muscle through it; think about all the good qualities she saw when they were friends.

She walked into her apartment, setting her sub sandwich on the counter. Her cellphone started ringing. She pulled it out of her purse and opened it.

"Hello?"

"Belle?"

She immediately recognized the Irish accent belonging to Graham Hunter, the singer she met at Nick's party a month ago. "Oh, hello!" she smiled, sitting herself on the barstool. "How are you, Graham?"

She heard him chuckle over the phone. "I'm doing fine. Yourself?"

"Oh, the usual," she shrugged. She stared over at the laptop sitting on her coffee table. That laptop had been her life for the past few months since she left Nevada. She was on it every day either writing, talking to Jefferson, or just staring at the bright screen until her vision turned green. She had been wondering for a while if selling her the flower shop was worth it.

"That's good to hear," he responded, bringing her back into the conversation. "I was calling to ask you had any plans for Halloween."

"Halloween?" She repeated. She snapped her head towards the wall calendar to see that Halloween was only two days away. The month had flown by fast. "Oh, no I don't. I haven't even picked out a costume yet."

"Well," he started again, this time sounding nervous. "If you do happen to find a costume soon, I was wondering if you'd like to spend it with me?"

"Are we going to go trick-or-treating around Central Park?" she joked.

He laughed. "No, but Mal Carabosse is having a lavish costume party that evening, and she invited me to come. She also said I could bring a date."

"A date..."

"You don't have to call it that," he said quickly. "It could also mean bringing a friend and two friends just hanging out and having fun."

"I know what you meant, Graham," she replied. Why should she have to be nervous about going on a date? It wasn't like she had a boyfriend who would get jealous or anything. She smiled and said, "I would love too."

"Oh... alright then," he could hear him breathing a sigh of relief. "I'll see you then."

They both said their goodbyes before Belle shoved her cellphone back into her bag. She suddenly felt happier than she had in days. It would be good for her if she got out of the apartment and spent the night having fun instead of moping around trying to finish editing her novel.

"Now then," she began. "I need to find something to wear."

A knock sounded on her front door. She quickly slipped her shoes on, took a quick glimpse at the mirror to fix her hair, and trotted to the door. She opened it to find Graham casually leaning against the door frame. He wore a sharp black suit with white pinstripes and a matching fedora. When he took it off to give a gentlemanly bow, she saw he had slicked his brown curls back for that clean, Frank Sinatra look.

"1920's mafia member?" Belle asked with a grin.

"Just call me John Dillinger, ma'am," he said with an attempt at a New York accent, which sounded funny with his normal accent slipping through. "You look very nice this evening, Miss French."

It was her turn to grin. "Please sir, call me Miss Golightly," she responded taking a step back so Graham could see her costume. She wore a slim, sleeveless black dress that stopped at her knees and matching high heels. Her brown hair was piled into a bun at the top of her head and a string of pearls around her neck.

"Miss Golightly?" Graham asked confused.

"You've never seen _Breakfast at Tiffany's_?"

"Only once," he admitted. "I'll be sure to watch it again soon."

She just giggled. "This was last minute really. It was either this or the giant banana suit they had at the mall."

Graham took hold of her hand and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she bit her lip, hoping her make-up would hide her blush.

"Shall we?" he held her arm out for her.

"We shall," she looped her arm with his and made their way to the party.

...

Belle wasn't sure what to expect. She had never been to any lavish NYC parties before, but she imagined they would be flashy and full of very important people who wore dresses you'd only see on the red carpet of the Oscars.

"This is where Mal lives," Graham told her as the cab pulled up in front of the mansion.

Belle's eyes almost boggled out of her head. The woman's two-story home reminded her of something straight out of the reality shows about the rich daughters of high profile media moguls; stark white with long columns lining the entryway. "It's rather large," she said in a quiet voice, still in awe.

The Irishman only laughed. "You should see her house in Rome. It's much bigger."

The girl's stomach clenched at the thought of it. The biggest house she ever stepped into was the mansion in Nevada she based her book on. Compared to this place, the old house back home was a suburban home.

Graham paid the cab fare and got out of the car. He walked around to open the door for Belle. She took his offered hand and stepped out. They walked up the front staircase, their fingers entwined with one another. Belle could feel her heart beating against her chest.

Once they walked through the double doors, Belle was somewhat surprised. She expected the place would be crazy, with lots of people crowding the rooms and jumping around like they did in Nick's apartment. The mansion was still full of people, but there was plenty of walking room and everyone was tamer than last time.

Loud music played from the corner of the room where a DJ's booth was set up next to the entryway leading into the dining room, and all of the furniture was pushed up against the walls so guests could walk around or dance if they wanted to. There were dozens of photos on the walls, all of Mal dressed in lavish outfits from when she modeled in her younger years, before building her fashion line.

She saw dozens of costumes. Some were just the usual skimpy Snow White or Alice costumes, a few Captain Americas were sitting on the couches, and a lot of others were just impersonations of other celebrities.

"So, what are you thinking?" she turned her head at Graham's voice. He was smiling at her.

"It's not as bad as I thought," she admitted. "Where do you think they keep the snacks?"

He just laughed and lead her down the small staircase that led into the living room. They walked past a few people who said hi to Graham and whistled at Belle. He led her into the dining room where the long table sat. It was covered with various treats and hor d'vourves, a punch bowl sat in the middle with dark red punch, and toy spiders, skeleton, and pumpkins sat at every other corner. Belle reached over and grabbed a carrot stick when a witch with green hair walked up to them.

"Graham, darling!" Belle immediately recognized Mal's voice under the large hat. The woman reached over and placed a kiss on both of the Irishman's cheeks. "It's so lovely to see you!"

"Likewise, Miss Carabosse," Graham smiled at her.

The woman frowned slightly. "Honey, how many times have I asked you to call me Mal?"

"Only a few dozen," he joked. He placed a hand on Belle's shoulder and gently pushed her forward. "You remember Isabella French? The writer from Nicholas Gold's party a few weeks ago?"

Mal's eyes brightened once she saw her. Belle could clearly see the green and black eye shadow and glitter she wore on her face when the woman stepped closer. "Oh, of course!" she said just before wrapping her arms around the brunette.

"You do?" Belle asked just as the other woman pulled away.

"Absolutely!" she said. "You were all Nick talked about after you and Graham wondered off."

Belle's stomach did a little flip as she stood still. "I was?" she almost didn't believe her. "What did he say?"

"Nothing but good things, I promise," she grinned. "He told me about your book. He said so many good things about your story that I had to go pick myself up a copy the next day- Oh! You must sign it for me!"

Belle could only smile. She felt herself blushing but didn't bother to hide it. "I would love too."

"Remind me before you leave," Mal winked at her. "It was very good."

Graham and Mal quickly went off into their own conversation while Belle listened them to them. Someone as famous as Mal Carabosse read her book. She even liked it! Belle felt like she was on cloud nine. She wanted to ask if she told any other celebrities about it and what they thought. It was all so mind blowing for her.

Someone from across the room called Mal's name and she excused herself from the couple.

"Mal seems like she's in a good mood," Belle commented.

"Why wouldn't she be?" Graham asked her.

"I don't know, I just assumed she'd be stressed out with so many people in her house. I know I would."

"She lives for parties," he told her. "Always looking for a reason to have a good time."

Belle thought back to the last party when she got so drunk and ended up passed out on the kitchen floor. She hoped the same wouldn't happen with her tonight.

Over the next hour, Belle and Graham spent their time talking to the other guests. Belle discovered that most of the guests were either models from Mal's agency or people from her staff that helped make the clothes and did all of the publicity stuff. One person even complimented Belle on her looks and handed her a card, saying she should start modeling for them.

The music went off in mid-song. Everyone turned towards the DJ's booth and saw a mini stage set up next to it with Mal standing in front of the mic.

"So, how everyone tonight?" she asked. Everyone clapped and cheered in response. "I want to wish you all a Happy Halloween! We have some lovely people here tonight, and even a couple of musicians..." she got this sneaky smile on her face and she looked over in the direction where Belle and Graham stood by the staircase. "I bet if we ask nicely, we can get Graham Hunter to sing for us?"

Everyone started clapping and cheering once more. Belle turned to Graham who looked somewhat embarrassed. She thought it was very cute. Mal started chanting "Graham! Graham!" and everyone slowly followed suit. Belle patted him on the shoulder encouragingly.

He sighed and started walking towards the stage.

...

Nick didn't want to be here.

He was okay with going to parties, but he never liked going to Mal's New York home for them. The woman would shamelessly flirt with him just as she had at his apartment a few weeks ago. So far she hadn't said a word to him, but he assumed it was because the woman was still sober.

The party wasn't as bad as he expected it would be - busy but not crowded, and there was good food - but he would've preferred sitting in his living room reading Stephen King or some other horror novel. He hadn't wanted to leave for the house for a few days, ever since Belle left. He had broken a lamp when she left his apartment, and he only left so he could buy a new one.

Regina had convinced him to come with her even though he didn't want too. He was thankful that she didn't suggest they dress in couple's costumes. She dressed as Velma Kelly from Chicago, and he just threw together a few old shirts and told people he was supposed to be a hippie. Regina was than thrilled at his laziness to pick out an actual costume, but she let it go quickly.

He was doing pretty good the first couple of hours they were there, just talking with some friends and what not. Nick would sometimes sneak away to grab some chicken fingers, eating more than his fair share.

After his fourth trip to the snack table, he was on his way back to be with Regina. She was talking with Archie Hopper (who was dressed in a tux and top hat, almost reminding him of the Monopoly Man) when he spotted her. He was only a few feet away from them when the music stopped. He turned to see Mal standing in front of a microphone stand.

"So, how everyone tonight?" she asked, her voice echoing though the speakers.

Everyone in the room clapped and cheered in response.

"I want to wish you all a Happy Halloween!" she continued. "We have some lovely people here tonight, and even a couple of musicians..." A smile spread on her face, and she started looking off in another direction.

Nick followed her gaze over to the staircase. He saw two people in the center of the stairs, one of them he immediately recognized as Graham Hunter, the singer Mal brought to his party. He was dressed up in a pin-striped suit with a matching fedora. He saw the woman standing next to him, and his heart almost stopped.

Belle was here.

"I bet if we ask nicely, we can get Graham Hunter to sing for us?" Mal's voice rang through again.

He could hear the crowd chanting and cheering for Graham, but his eyes stayed glued onto Belle. He watched as she gently pushed Graham forward, encouraging him to get on the stage. He finally walked away from her, and she stood alone, a big smile on her face for him.

He didn't think she was wearing a costume at first. She wore her hair in a high bun with a diamond burette that sparkled under the light, a matching necklace, and a black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. He thought of nothing but those curves since he had his hands all over them a few nights ago. It made his heart ache to see her here.

Nick heard Graham say something in the microphone just before he started playing on his guitar, but he didn't pay attention to the words. He glanced over at Regina who was watching the stage just like everyone else in the room. Maybe she hadn't seen Belle here. Maybe he could go talk to her and try to reason with her; salvage what was left of their friendship.

He took a deep breath and began pushing his way through the crowd toward her.

...

Belle watched Graham get up on the stage. The DJ handed him a guitar and someone had muted the lights a tad to give the room a bluesy feel. Once he had the strap of the guitar around his shoulder, he stood in front of the microphone.

"Thank you all," he said. "This one is for a very good friend of mine," she felt his eyes fall on her. "It's one of her favorites."

He started to play the first few notes, and Belle immediately recognized the song. It was the one she told him was her favorite the night they met. Belle felt her heart skip a beat, realizing he was dedicating the song to her.

_"Bright eyes... Where do you wonder on this dark night? So long 'til dawn, no longer uptight... No need to worry for a while..." _he started singing.

His voice sounded very nice, richer than it had on the CD she had. The song was very soothing, and watching him sing had put the biggest smile on her face. She closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the lyrics, never wanting to be found...

"Belle?"

_No_, her eyes snapped open. She knew that voice all too well.

Nick was standing right in front of her.

She froze; her heart thudding loudly in her ears, and thoughts racing all at once. She wondered why he was here, and then remembered that this was Mal's party. Of course she would've invited Nick here.

"Nick," was all she managed to say.

"Hey," he replied, and she could tell he looked nervous too. He was dresses in an old brown jacket with worn down blue jeans and a ratty shirt underneath. She didn't know if he was supposed to be dressed as a hippie or a hobo. "So," he began. "Did Mal invite you?"

"I'm with Graham," she said rather quickly. "I mean, Graham invited me to come with him."

"Ah," he nodded. He bit his lip and turned away from her a moment. "Are you having fun?"

"Yes, I am," she put on her best smile, even though it felt fake to her. She had a sudden thought. If Nick was here, that meant... "You're here with Regina?"

He almost didn't want to answer her. "Aye," he eventually responded, nodding out towards the crowd. "Belle, can we talk? Preferably somewhere private?"

Belle sighed. "Nick, we don't have anything to talk about." She stepped to the side to walk around him, but he quickly stepped in front of her.

"Of course we do," he tried to reason. "I know the last time we talked didn't end on a good note, but if you would give me a chance to explain-"

"I already gave you a chance," she said harshly. "I told you how I felt, and you couldn't even be honest about your feelings."

"Belle, I'm trying really hard," he placed a both hands on her shoulders, making her look him in the eye. He looked hurt. For a split second, she wanted to give him a hug and say he would be okay. "I really do care about you."

She wanted to believe him, but something else had pressed on her mind.

"If you care about me so much, why couldn't you tell me about Regina? Why would you let her push you around the way you say she does instead of leaving her and being with someone that treats you better?"

He was silent long enough for her to hear the end of Graham's song and everyone else applauding him. Nick bit his lip before he said, "It's complicated." Belle could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew his answer wasn't good enough.

She sighed and told him, "Call me when it isn't," and walked around him down the stairs.

She dare not look back at him. That small part of her that still loved him would take over and give in to all of his bullshit if she looked back at him. Instead, she looked straight ahead as she reached the bottom of the staircase.

She could see Graham leaving the stage, greeting the other guests who were most likely telling him how great his performance was. She felt bad for missing most of his song thanks to Nick. Maybe she could convince him to sing for her later.

Before she could take another step further, she felt her phone vibrate in her small black purse that rested against her hip. She reached inside and pulled it out. The number didn't have a name with it, but she recognized the area code.

Slightly worried, she hit the green button. "Hello?"

...

She had bumped against his shoulder when she walked past him down the stairs. Nick waited a moment before turning to watch her descend the staircase. He wondered... No, he hoped that she would at least look back at her. Maybe change her mind and finish their conversation.

He knew what he wanted to tell her. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to speak them, to be honest with her like he had when Bae had shown up. She was the only one in New York who knew about his past life as Rumford Spinner; not even Regina knew he had a son and ex-wife back in Scotland. That should've been a good enough reason.

"Nick?" an all too familiar voice spoke up.

He looked away from Belle and saw Regina standing in front of him.

"Where have you been?" she asked curiously. "Archie was wondering where you were."

"I had to use the restroom," he lied.

"Oh," she said. "Well, you missed a really good story he told..."

She started to speak, but her words were white noise. He had looked over her head just enough to where he could see Belle, but still look like he was listening to Regina.

Belle was talking to someone on her cellphone. She was half turned so he could only catch her profile. He watched as her blank expression, her lips moving every now and then to answer short questions. He didn't know what she was talking about.

Her expression started to change. She stood very still compared to the others around her. She looked so lost all of a sudden. After a long moment of listening to the voice on the other end, she forced her head to nod.

She pulled the phone away from her ear, her other hand slightly covered her mouth. Nick knew then that something was wrong.

"Nick are you listening to me?" Regina's voice cut through.

He quickly looked back at her. She looked annoyed, realizing he was ignoring her. "I..." he trailed off, looking back up at Belle.

She had started to dash towards the double doors that led outside. He also saw Graham, following her a few feet behind. He must've sensed something was wrong also.

Before he knew it, Nick was following them.

He ignore Regina calling after him. He roughly pushed past the other guests while trying to get to the front door. When he had reached the bottom step that lead to the doors, he was only a couple of feet behind Graham.

At that point, it started to feel like a race; seeing who would be the first to reach Belle, and be able to save her from whatever had been said over the phone.

The two of them pushed past a group of people dressed as different types of fruit just before they reached the door. Graham's hand had touched the door knob first, and Nick's hand accidently brushed over his. The Irishman snapped his attention to him, finally noticing he had been followed. "Nick?"

"What's wrong with Belle?" Nick blurted. It was a stupid question, since he knew Graham knew as much as he had, but it was the first thing he could think of.

"I don't know," Graham answered just as he pulled the door open.

They both rushed outside and saw Belle at the edge of the sidewalk where she was talking to one of Mal's valets. The skinny man quickly rushed away, leaving her alone.

"Belle?" Nick called out.

She turned towards them. She looked panicked. "Graham!" she called, somewhat relieved, as she rushed to them. "Graham, I'm sorry but I have to leave," her voice was rushed, and Nick could tell she was trying very hard to keep it steady. "Something happened, and I need to get..."

"Belle, calm down," Graham said soothingly. "What happened?"

He bottom lip was trembling, and her blue eyes were bright with tears she didn't want to shed. "It's Jeff... He..." She had trouble with finishing her sentence.

Nick's heart immediately clenched. Jeff was her half-brother that was currently stationed in Afghanistan. The person she was talking to on the phone had to have been one of the officers stationed with them. "Belle, what happened to Jeff?"

"He's hurt," she sobbed. "There was this explosion... They're flying him out to the hospital in New York City..." she quickly put her hands over her face, trying to calm herself.

"It's okay, Belle," Graham said. "I'll go find that valet and make sure he brings my car around. I'll go with you." He quickly ran off in the same direction as the valet did, leaving Belle alone with Nick.

She kept her hands over her face, and he could hear her whispering to herself. Nervous, he took a slow step towards her. "Belle," he said as softly as he could, "everything will be alright. The doctors are going to fix him up, and he'll be all better." He put his hand on her shoulder.

"He's dying, Nick!" she jerked away from her touch, her hands flying away from her face. There were tears streaming down her harsh face. "This is what happens in wars. People die! My brother is going to die!"

"But you don't-"

"Yes, I do," she glared at him. "I know nothing will be okay!"

"Belle..." was all he could manage to say. He couldn't think of any other way to comfort her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but he tell from the look on her face that she would pull away from him.

"Nick," she began, calmer but still visibly upset. "Just do me a favor... and stay away from me."

The way she spoke those words; the way they made him feel, she might as well have taken a gun and shot him in the chest. He stood their speechless as a black Cadillac pulled up behind her. He could see Graham's face poking out of the driver's side window.

She wordlessly turned away from him and stepped into the car.

Nick watched as the car drove away. The rest of the world around him was silent accept for the wheels of the car on the gravel. He was left alone as the rest of the world had crashed around him.

He said a silent prayer to whoever was listening that Jeff would be okay; that Belle would be okay.

She didn't want him anymore; that much was clear. He had ruined his last chance at saving his and Belle's friendship.

"Goodbye, Belle," he whispered to himself just before he walked back into the mansion.

_**A/n: I should go hide now, right?... Thought so.**_

_**I promise things will start to look up from here on out. There are only two chapters of this story left (I know, it makes me sad too).**_

_**Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing this story! It really means a lot to hear all of your feedback :)**_


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